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ITALIAN LETTERS 
OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 



7th EDITION 

LETTERS OF A 
DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 

By MARY KING WADDINGTON 

"A most interesting book of gossip, which, con- 
sidered from the point of view of the general 
public, contains not a dull line from the first to the 
last. The letters have all the freshness of the 
best class of feminine correspondence." 

— London Athenteum. 

Illustrated. 8vo. $2.50 Net 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 




Klena, Queen of Italy. 



ITALIAN LETTERS OF 
A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 



January-May, 1880 
February— April, 1904 



BY 

MARY KING WADDINGTON 



illustrated from drawings 
and photographs 



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
NEW YORK :: :: :: :: :: :: 1905 






LIBSARYof OONGRCSS 
Two Copies r<«c«!yi:<i 

MAR 24 iy05 

Ja.bi! rtt AXc. Not 
COPY b. 



Copyright, 1905, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published, March, 1905 



TROW DIRECTOnr 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANr 

NEW YORK 



NOTE 

In December, 1879, ^- William Henry Waddington 
resigned the Premiership of France, and the follow- 
ing month, accompanied by his wife, left Paris for 
a winter of rest and recreation in Italy, chiefly in 
Rome. The letters from Madame Waddington to 
her mother and sister, which constitute " Part I " of 
this volume, describe this journey and residence. 
Those forming "Part II" relate the incidents of a 
similar Roman sojourn some twenty years later, M. 
Waddington having died in the meantime. The two 
series together compose a picture of life and society 
in the Italian capital with a wide range of contrast 
and comparison, corresponding with those of Lon- 
don and Moscow in the well-known ' ' Letters of a 
Diplomat's Wife " by the same writer. 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Elena, Queen of Italy .... Froritispiece 



FACING 
PAGE 



Mrs. Charles King 



President Charles King of Columbia College, New 

York Citv ........ 30 

The Spanish Steps ....... 52 

III the Piazza di Spagna, Rome. 

Pope Leo XIII 60 

King Humbert of Italy ...... 66 

Queen Margherita of Italy ..... 76 

Queen Margherita and King Humbert . . . 84" 

Queen Margherita and the Prince of Naples 

(Present King of Italy) in 1880 ... 94 

Victoria, Crown Princess of Germany . . . 104"^ 

Gardens of the Villa Torlonia, Formerly Villa 
CoNTi, Frascati, Opposite the Villa Marconi, 
Where we Spent the Su.mmer of 1867 . . 108 

Tomb of Viniciano, Between Frascati and Tus- 

j 

CULUM . . . . . . . . .112 

Grounds of the Villa Doria-Pamphili, Rome . 116 

From an unpublished photograph taken about iSbq. 

Pope Pius IX. ........ 145 



Vlll 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Last Benediction of Pope Pius IX. from the 
CONY OF St. Peter's .... 

St. Peter's from the Pincio 

The Barberini Palace .... 

The residence of the Stotys. 

Victor Emanuel III., King of Italy 
Pope Pius X. ..... . 



Bal- 



Great New Bridge from Albano to Ariccia 

Buiit by Pope Pius IX. 

Roman Huntsmen on the Campagna 

Ancient Roman aqueduct in the backgroujtd. 

Waiting for the Hounds .... 
Cardinal Antonelli ..... 

From a portrait painted for the Grand Duke of Sa.xe- Weimar. From 
a photograph given to Madame Waddington by the H eredita7y 
Grand Duchess o/ Saxe- Weimar at Rome. 



FACING 
PAGE 



158 

172 

238 

244 

250 

264 

266 

268 
288 



The Dining-room in the Brancaccio Palace 



304 



ITALIAN LETTERS 
OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 



PART I 
ITALY IN THE EIGHTIES 

To G. K. 5^.* 

31, KUE DUMONT d'UrVILLE, PaRIS, 
January 10, 1880. 
Well, dear, here I am back again in my little hotel, 
and very small and uncomfortable it looks — like a doll's 
house after the enormous rooms of the Quai d'Orsay — 
however I am very glad to be a private individual once 
more (no longer a " femme publique " as our friend 
used to say). Our departure was hurried, as once W.f 
had made up his mind and resigned he wanted to get 
away at once. We got off in two days, which I thought 
quite wonderful. Of course ever since the opening of the 
session in November it was evident that he couldn't stay. 
He and his Ministers were hardly ever agreed on any 
point, and it wasn't worth while for him to spend his 
energy and intelligence in trying to carry out a policy 
which neither the Chamber nor the country apparently 
desired. There were endless conferences all through 
December, but it was clear that it was time for him to go. 
The weather was something awful — bitterly cold — the 
Seine frozen tight, booths and games established, and 

* Mrs. Eugene Schuyler, nee King. 

t W. here and throughout these letters refers to M. William Henry Wad- 
dington, Madame Waddington's husband. 

3 



4 ITALIAN LETTERS Qan. 

everybody sliding about and trying to skate — but that 
was under difficulties as the ice was rough and uneven. 
I walked over with Francis,* that he might say he had 
walked across the Seine. We had great difficulty in 
warming the house — many trains with wood and coal 
were blocked just outside Paris, and nothing could get 
in. I don't know what we should have done, but happily 
the Ministre de la Guerre gave us an order to take some 
wood from some depot in Paris where they had a pro- 
vision; so for the two days before we moved in great 
fires were going in the calorifere. I really think the only 
person who hated to leave the Quai d'Orsay was Francis. 
He was furious at seeing all his things packed up, and 
was carried out to the carriage kicking and screaming — 
" veux pas quitter ma maison — veux pas aller vilaine 
petite maison." The huissiers (6, all standing solemnly 
in a row to say good-bye) were much impressed, and the 
old grey-headed Pierson who has been there for years 
and seen many Ministers depart, remarked — " au moins 
Monsieur Francis est desole de partir." It seemed funny 
to drive out of the big gates for the last time. I wonder 
if I shall ever go through them again. Things go so 
quickly in France now. 

You can't conceive anything more uncomfortable than 
this house to-day — no carpets down nor curtains up; all 
the furniture, books, rugs, dumped in the middle of the 
rooms, and the hall and corridors full of trunks and 
boxes. W. has had a steady stream of people ever since 
we arrived — some to condole — some (old friends) to con- 
gratulate him upon no longer serving such an infecte 
government — some a little embarrassed to explain that, 
though they regret him extremely, still . . . they 
must serve their country, and hope he wont take it amiss 

* Francis, son of M. and Madame Waddington. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 5 

if they make up to the rising sun (in the shape of Frey- 
cinet, who has taken W.'s place). I expect we shall 
have some curious experiences. When one is no longer 
in power it is surprising how things change their aspect. 
I had to settle the salons as soon as I could as I had 
invited a big party for Francis's Christmas Tree, think- 
ing it would be at the Ouai d'Orsay. I didn't want to 
put the people off — particularly the diplomatists who have 
all been most civil and proper — so after a consultation 
with Kruft — (chef du materiel at the Quai d'Orsay) who 
had already begun to make his preparations, I decided 
to have it here, and Kruft and one of his men came and 
helped dress it. Of course the tree had to be cut at the 
top — our rooms are fairly high, but nothing like the Quai 
d'Orsay naturally — but it looked rather prettier, quite 
covered with toys and shiny ornaments. Francis had 
beautiful presents — a hand-organ with a monkey on top 
from Madame Sibbern, the wife of the Swedish Minister, 
from which he can't be extracted. He can't turn it alone, 
but some of the bigger children helped him, and we had 
the " Cloches de Corneville " and " Niniche " almost all 
the afternoon. There were about 100 people, children 
and parents, and the rooms looked pretty. All the peo- 
ple and lights warmed them too — it w^asn't quite so 
Siberian. We couldn't attempt cooking of any kind as 
the kitchen range was out of order, and besides we hadn't 
fuel enough — I'Oncle Alphonse * who lives next door 
feeds us. W. and I go to him for breakfast and dinner, 
and his chef (a very distinguished artist and well dressed 
gentleman — quite a superior person — Monsieur Double) 
submits Francis's menu every morning to Nounou, as he 
says he has no experience with children. 

We have decided to go to Italy for two or three months, 

* M. Alphonse Sutteroth, ancien diplomatist under Louis Philippe. 



6 ITALIAN LETTERS [Jan. 

and shall make Rome our headquarters. W. has never 
been there, and says it wouldn't be worth while going 
for less than three months. What fun it will be to be 
there together — I can hardly believe it is true. I am 
sure we are wise to get away. There must always be 
little jarring things when one has been in office some 
time — and it would be rather a bore to W. to take his 
place as senator and be in opposition to the present Min- 
istry. If he stayed in Paris he would have to take part 
in all the discussions, and would certainly be interviewed 
by all sorts of people to whom he would say nothing (he 
never does — he hates newspaper people) but they would 
say he did all the same, and so many people believe im- 
plicitly whatever they see in a paper. The Minister has 
offered W. the London Embassy, but he wont take it, 
doesn't wish to have any function of any kind at pres- 
ent. He is looking forward to long, happy hours in 
Rome, deciphering all the old inscriptions, and going over 
the old city with Lanciani * and some of his literary 
friends. 

January 12, 1880. 
After all I have been back to the Ouai d'Orsay. W. 
said I must go and make a formal visit to Madame de 
Freycinet (who is a very nice woman — a Protestant, and 
has one daughter — a charming intelligent girl). Hen- 
rietta and I went together, taking Francis with us, who 
was delighted as soon as he got to the Place de la 
Concorde and crossed the bridge — " C'est Paris — C'est 
Paris." Poor little boy — the rue Dumont d'Urville is 
so quiet, nothing passing and nothing to see when he 
looks out of the window. He was always at the window 
at the Ouai d'Orsay looking at the boats, the soldiers, 

* Director of Excavations in Rome under Rossi. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 7 

and the general liveliness of a great thoroughfare. It 
was a funny sensation to go and pay a visit to Madame 
de Freycinet in the little blue salon where I had received 
her so often, and to be announced by my own pet huissier, 
Gerard, who spent his life all the time I was at the Quai 
d'Orsay sitting outside the door of any room I happened 
to be in. He knew all my visitors — those I wanted to 
see and those I didn't — kept all the cards, and books, and 
remembered every quete I had given to — and the bills 
that had been paid. I don't remember that he ever occu- 
pied himself with my garments, but I am sure that he 
could have found anything that I asked for. 

The house is gradually getting warm and comfortable, 
and the furniture settling into its place; but I have a 
curious feeling of smallness — as if I hadn't room to turn. 
We hope to get ofif in three or four days. We leave 
Francis of course, but Nounou and Hubert will look after 
him, and he will go to breakfast every day with Mother, 
where of course he will be well spoiled and have every- 
thing he asks for. 

To G. K. S. 

January 18, 1880. 
I hope we shall get off now in a day or two — W. really 
needs the rest, which he never will get here as all day 
long people come to see him and suggest various plans. 
We have written to the Hotel de Londres. You or 
Eugene might go there some day and see the rooms they 
propose. It will be nice to be back in our old quarters 
Piazza di Spagna. We had a pleasant small dinner last 
night at the British Embassy — Lord Lyons is always so 
nice and cordial. He was a little surprised and not quite 
pleased that W. hadn't accepted the London Embassy, 
he would have been so entirely a " persona grata " with 



8 ITALIAN LETTERS Qan. 

his English education, connections, etc. All the Diplo- 
mates seem to regret us (but I think they will like the 
Freycinets just as much) and really here, where Minis- 
ters are such passing figures in the political world, they 
would have a hard time if they set their affections on any 
particular man. 

I am becoming very philosophical — though the attitude 
of some of my friends has rather surprised me (not W. ; 
he is never surprised at anything). L'Oncle Alphonse 
keeps us well informed of what is said on the other side. 
He is quite a Royalist, a great friend of the Orleans 
Princes, and a great deal at the club where they always 
call him " I'oncle du gouvernement " — and when the 
" gouvernement makes a * betise ' " (w4iich sometimes 
happens) they criticize freely, and he tells it all to us. 
I fancy he always defends W. in public — but of course 
in private pitches into him well. 

I rather miss the big life — seeing so many people, and 
being as it were behind the scenes — also our conversa- 
tions at night when W. had finished his signatures, and 
Pontecoulant * came up from his quarters with the report 
of the day, and got his instructions for the next morning. 
W. is not at all " matinal " and hates doing any kind of 
business early — must always have his ride first. We used 
to sit in W.'s cabinet until two in the morning sometimes, 
telling our experiences — some of mine were funny. I 
hated an official reception day, but the gentlemen of the 
protocol department thought it absolutely necessary, so I 
was obliged to give in — and certainly nothing I did tired 
me so much as those long Fridays in the big yellow draw- 
ing-room. From 3 to 6 streams of people — women mostly 
— of all nationalities — and of course no conversation pos- 
sible — however it wasn't always banal, as you will see. 

* Comte de Pontecoulant, chef de Cabinet. 



i8so] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 9 

Our last Friday one of my friends had been in, very 
much taken up with the journey to Rome — her clothes, 
the climate, which hotel was the best, etc. When she 
went out in a whirl of talk and excitement I turned to 
one of the 14 women who were seated in a semicircle 
on each side of me, and by way of continuing the conver- 
sation said : " 111 me semble qu'on serait tres bien a 
I'Hotel de Londres a Rome en plein soleil," to which she 
replied haughtily " Je n'en sais rien, Madame, je n'ai 
jamais quitte Paris, et je m'en vante." W. wouldn't 
believe it, but as I told him I couldn't have invented it. 
I was rather sorry I hadn't pursued the conversation, and 
asked her why she was so proud of that particular phase 
of her life. I suppose she must have had a reason, which 
naturally I couldn't understand, having begun my career 
so very far away from either Rome or Paris. It is a 
real pleasure though to be back in my own salon, and have 
my nice little tea-table, and three or four of my friends, 
and talk about anything and everything, and even do a 
little music occasionally. 

January 20, 1880. 
I didn't find my tea quite so pleasant the other day. 
I was sitting in the little salon talking to one or two 
ladies, and receiving their congratulations at being no 
longer of the official world, and obliged to associate with 
the Government people, when the footman appeared with 
his eyes round, to announce that " La Presidente " 
(Madame Grevy) was coming upstairs to pay Madame 
a visit. I flew to the door and the top of the stairs (I 
couldn't get any further) and received " ma Presidente " 
in proper style. I ushered her into the salon where I had 
left my friends (mad Royalists both). They were much 
disgusted — however they were too well-bred to make 



lO ITALIAN LETTERS Qan. 

things disagreeable for me in my own house — and rose 
when we came in. I named Madame Grevy — and as soon 
as she had taken her seat, and decHned a cup of tea, they 
went away. Of course they hated getting up for 
Madame Grevy, but there was nothing else to be done 
as she and I were both standing. Happily no one else 
came in but Prince Orloff, Russian Ambassador, who of 
course knew Madame Grevy and talked easily enough. 
She didn't stay long — it was the classic " visite de con- 
doleance " to the wife of the ex-Minister (if she only 
knew how glad this Ex was to return to private life and 
her own house, and to be no longer " logee par le gou- 
vernement). This is the second visit of condoleance I 
have had. When Marshal MacMahon dismissed (sud- 
denly) all his cabinet presided by Jules Simon, i6th of 
May, 1877, Madame de MacMahon came also to see me 
— and at the same time — 5 o'clock on my reception day — 
so I knew precisely what the conversation would be — 
and Madame Grevy and I both said exactly the same 
things that the Marechale and I had said two or three 
years ago. I suppose everybody does say the same thing 
on certain occasions. After she had gone Orloff asked 
me if I remembered those two ladies meeting (for the 
first time in their lives) at the Quai d'Orsay on one of 
my Fridays. Just after the Marshal resigned Madame 
de MacMahon came to see me. She was announced by 
all the servants and I had plenty of time to get to the door 
of the first drawing-room, not quite to the anteroom, to 
receive her. When her husband was President she was 
received always like Royalty — at the door of the apart- 
ment. She was very simple and easy, quite pleased evi- 
dently at still having all her honours. Prince Orloff came 
in to pay a visit, and we were having a very pleasant talk, 
when I heard quick footsteps in the second salon, and 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE ii 

again appeared my faithful Gerard (I had also visions 
of numberless doors being opened all down the enfilade 
of salons) announcing Madame Grevy. I was embar- 
rassed for a moment as I didn't like to leave the Mare- 
chale, and yet I knew I must go and meet Madame Grevy 
— all the ceremony of course was for the official position, 
and one Presidente was just the same as the other. 
Madame de MacMahon was most amiable — said at once 
— " Je vous en prie, Madame, ne pensez pas a moi " — 
and " au fond " was rather curious to see her successor. 
I went as quickly as I could (Orloff giving me a funny 
little smile, almost a wink, as I passed him) and got my 
other Presidente just at the door. She was rather as- 
tounded I think at her reception — she hadn't been long 
in her exalted position. We proceeded majestically 
through three or four salons, and when we arrived at 
my drawing-room Madame de ]\Iac]\lahon got up at 
once, saying quite simply " Voulez-vous me presenter, 
Madame, a Madame Grevy ? " She was quite at her 
ease — Madame Grevy rather shy and embarrassed — how- 
ever Madame de MaclNIahon talked at once about some 
of the great charities, artists, etc., and it really wasn't 
too stiff — Orloff of course always helping and making 
jokes with the two ladies. One or two visitors came in 
and gasped when they saw the situation — also one of the 
young men of the Cabinet, who instantly disappeared. 
I always thought he went to tell W. what was happen- 
ing upstairs so that he might come to the rescue in case 
I wasn't up to the mark . . . but he swears he 
didn't. When the Marechale got up to go there was 
again a complication as I wanted to accompany her to 
the door, and I didn't like to leave Madame Grevy. She 
wouldn't hear of my going through all the salons — took 
leave of me at the door — and then Orloff came to the 



12 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

rescue — gave her his arm and took her to her carriage. 
It was a curious meeting, and, as Orloff said just now, 
" je kii devais une fameuse chandehe." * 

February 6, 1880. 
We are starting to-night, straight for Florence, where 
we shah stay a week or ten days with the Bunsens before 
going on to Rome. W. is much pleased at the Roman 
prospect — and I can hardly believe that I am going to 
see Rome again. We have our lit-salon straight through 
to Florence, and I hope we shall be warm enough. It is 
bitterly cold to-day — even walking I was glad to have 
my sealskin coat. Nounou is rather tearful at being left 
in sole charge of Francis, but as that young gentleman 
is perfectly well, in roaring spirits, and will be given 
everything his heart desires by his Grandmother and 
Aunts, I don't feel very unhappy about him. It seems 
incredible that we should be going to meet soon. How 
we will prowl about Rome. I suppose I shall find it 
absolutely changed — so many more people — not our dear 
old dead Rome. 

To H. L. K. t 

Florence, Via Roman.\, Villa McDonnell, 
February 8, 1880. 

We arrived quite comfortably, dear mother, but almost 
frozen, particularly W. He has not been extracted from 
the fire since we got here. Henrietta wall have told you of 
our start. Pontecoulant and one or two men were at 
the station to see us off — also the Chef de Gare, most 
civil, and saying we should not be disturbed at the fron- 

* French idiom difficult to translate, meaning "I ought to be very grate- 
ful to him." 

f Mrs. Charles King, mother of Madame W^addington. 




Mrs. Charles King. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 13 

tier — and that our coupe-lit would take us straight 
througli to i'lorence. We had a perfectly easy journey, 
and 1 slept (|uite peacefully — waking up merely when we 
passed through the tunnel, as the guard came in to shut 
all the windows. It was a beautiful, cold, starlight 
winter night. The great mountains covered with snow 
looked gigantic as we approached — " sinistres " as Mad- 
ame Hubert * said. She w^as much impressed and rather 
nervous. There were very few people in the train. When 
we arrived at Modane the Chef de Gare was wait- 
ing for us — he had been telegraphed from Paris to ex- 
pect us. We had breakfast in the private room, and a 
nice woman was waiting for us upstairs in the ladies' 
room with hot water, towels, etc. I made quite a toilet 
— she carried off my dress and jacket to brush — and then 
we went down to a nice little breakfast which tasted very 
good, as I hadn't had anything since our 7 o'clock dinner. 
They offered us coffee somewhere — Dijon I think — but 
I didn't want anything then. All the first part of the 
road — in fact all the road to Turin was lovely. It w^as 
a bright, cold morning, and the snow mountains looked 
beautiful. It was such a pleasure to hear Italian once 
more — even the names at the stations " capo stazione " — 
" grande velocita " — " uscita," etc., also the shrill " par- 
tenza " when w^e started. The last time I crossed the 
Mont Cenis w'as by the Fell railway when w^e all started 
together from Aix. That w-as certainly very beautiful 
— but rather terrifying — particularly as we neared the 
top and looked at the steep places and the various zig- 
zags we were to follow going down. One couldn't help 
feeling that if a brake or chain broke there would be a 
terrible catastrophe. I remember so well some of the 
women who were quite sea-sick — the swaying motion, I 

* Madame Waddington's maid. 



14 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

suppose, as we rounded the curves, of which there were 
many. I can see one now stretched out on the floor on 
a rug in the small salle d'attente at Susa, quite exhausted 
and absolutely indifferent to the outside world. 

We had quite a wait at Turin. Our coupe was de- 
tached and put on the Florence express. They locked 
the doors, and we left all our things — ^books, shawls, 
bags, etc. — and had a very fair dinner at the buffet. We 
had so much time that Madame Hubert and I went for 
a little walk. There was not much to see close to the 
gare — but it was delightful to me to hear Italian again, 
and to see the idle, placid crowd standing about — nobody 
in a hurry apparently, and nobody jostling and pushing 
through, though there were trains starting or coming in 
all the time. W. was too cold to move — he really should 
have had a fur coat — which he utterly despises — says that 
will do when he is 70, and can't walk any more. It was 
warm and fairly light in the buffet so he established him- 
self there with a paper and was quite happy. We got here 
about 6.30 — Charles de Bunsen was at the station with 
a carriage — so we came off at once, leaving Madame 
Hubert and Francesco with the trunks. How she will 
get on in Italian I don't know, but she is very active and 
debrouillarde, and generally makes herself understood. 
Mary * was waiting for us with tea and those crisp little 
grissini f we always used to have in Casa Guadagni. 
They have a charming " villino " — part of the McDon- 
nell villa. One goes in by a small door (in one of the 
narrow grey streets of old Florence, with high walls on 
each side — Via Romana) and straight up a fine broad 
staircase to a good palier with large high rooms opening 
out on it. All the bedrooms and small salon open on a 

* Madame de Bunsen, nee W^addington. 
f Long crisp breads one has in Italy. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 15 

loggia overlooking the garden — a real old Italian garden. 
I shall never be dressed in time for anything in the morn- 
ing, as I am always on the loggia. The flowers are all 
coming out — the birds singing — the sky bright, deep 
blue — and the whole atmosphere so soft and clear — and 
in fact Italian — different from everything else. 

Mary has arranged the small salon (which they 
always sit in) most prettily and comfortably — with 
bibelots and quantities of books about in all languages 
— there are usually four going in the establishment — 
Charles and his daughter speak always German to each 
other — the rest of us either French or English — it de- 
pends rather upon what we are talking about — and 
always an undercurrent of Italian with the servants and 
" parlatrice " (such a sweet, refined looking girl who 
comes every day to read and speak Italian wath my belle- 
mere). Mrs. Waddington strikes at the mixture at 
meals and insists upon one language, either English or 
French. There is also a charming German girl here, 
Mile, de Sternberg, a niece of Charles de Bunsen — so we 
are a most cosmopolitan household. The life is utterly 
different from the one I have been leading for the last 
two years. 

To H. L. K. 

February 10, 1880. 
I try and write every day, but am so much taken up 
and so tired when I come in that I don't always find the 
moment. W. is all right again. He really got quite a 
chill from the cold night journey — and for two or three 
days sat in the fire. Francesco, the Italian servant, took 
excellent care of him — was so sympathetic the night we 
had some music and W. couldn't appear. It was a pleas- 



1 6 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

ant evening — a Russian Prince (I forget his name, and 
couldn't probably spell it if I remembered), a great friend 
of Mary's, an excellent musician and a great Wagnerian 
offered to come and play some of the Nibelungen. I was 
delighted as I only know Tannhauser and Lohengrin. I 
remember now your sigh of relief when Seilern and I 
finished playing a 4 mains the Walpurgis Night years 
ago in the Champs Elysees. I daresay it was trying for 
the public — but we enjoyed ourselves immensely. The 
big drawing-room looked very pretty, with plenty of 
flowers, and I think there were about 50 people — almost 
all (except Lottie and Madame de Tchiatcheff) ardent 
admirers of the great man. One lady appeared in a sort 
of loose, red gown (it seems red is the only colour Wag- 
ner admits), her hair, very pretty, blonde, hanging down 
her back, just tied with a ribbon — and carrying two par- 
titions. Mary said, " Wouldn't you like to sit by her, 
and she will explain it all to you? " — but I said there was 
nothing I would like so little. I knew enough of the 
legend to be able to follow, and moreover I had always 
heard that Wagner's descriptive music was so wonder- 
ful that one understood everything without any text, etc. 
The great man appeared — the grand piano was opened 
all over to give as much sound as possible — and he re- 
quested absolute silence. He played beautifully — it was 
enchanting — one quite heard the little waves in which the 
Rhein-Tochter were disporting themselves. It was won- 
derfully melodious and delicate — I should have liked it to 
go on forever. He played for about three-quarters of 
an hour — all Rheingold — then suddenly pushed back his 
chair, and rushed to the anteroom, exclaiming " de I'air 
— de I'air," followed by all the red and musical ladies. 
It is a pity there must always be such a pose with Wag- 
ner — for really the music was a joy. I met of course 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 17 

quantities of old friends, and agreed to go to Lottie Van 

Schaick's ball. 

February 12, 1880. 

W. and I had a lovely long tlanerie this morning. He 
is quite well again, and the sun was tempting. It seems 
quite a different Florence living over here, and I must 
say much more old-world and Italian than the Lung- 
arno, with all the modern hotels and apartments, and 
evident signs of forestieri * everywhere. As soon as we 
cross the bridge it is quite different — a gay, bustling, 
northern city. W. was so much amused the other day 
— we were in a fiacre and the driver put on the brake to 
go down the almost imperceptible descent on the other 
side of the bridge. We went straight across to the 
Piazza del Duomo to-day, where the market was held, 
and wandered in and out among the stalls. It was all 
so familiar — little green cucumbers, almonds, and strings 
of fried fish, with a good healthy smell of " frittura." 
The people were all most smiling, and so pleased when I 
spoke Italian to them, and said I was so happy to be 
back in their country again. W. has no opinion of my 
Italian. He came to my room this morning followed by 
the Italian servant to tell vie to tell him that his razor 
must be sharpened. I began, and came to a dead halt — 
hadn't the slightest idea what razor was in Italian. W. 
was much disgusted, but I explained that when I was liv- 
ing in Italy before as a girl, I hadn't often had occasion 
to ask for razors — all the same he has evidently lost con- 
fidence, and thinks my reputation as a linguist " surfaite." 

This afternoon we had a lovely drive up the Fiesole 
hill with Mary and Beatrice. Their man, who goes on 
the carriage, is called " Bacco " and is so Italian and 
sympathetic — takes a lively interest in all our proceed- 

* Foreisners. 



1 8 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

ings — knows everybody we meet, and talks cheerfully 
with any of his friends we happen to cross. The view 
from Fiesole was divine — the long slopes of Cyprus and 
olive trees — with Florence at the bottom of the valley, 
and the Arno just visible — a streak of light. I am so 
fond of the grey green of the olives. It all looked so 
soft and delicate in the sunset light. 

February 13, 1880. 

We are getting dreadfully mondain. The other night 
we had a pretty, typical Florentine party at Edith 
Peruzzi's.* We went a little after ten and thought we 
would be among the first, but the rooms were already 
full — quantities of people (not many of my old friends) 
and splendid jewels. It was much more real Florentine 
society than the people we used to see when we lived in 
Casa Guadagni. They were generally the young, sport- 
ing, pleasure-loving set, with a good dash of foreigners, 
artists, diplomatists, etc. These were the real polite, 
stiff Italians of the old regime. Many people were in- 
troduced to us, and W. enjoyed his evening immensely 
— found many interesting people to talk to. He was de- 
lighted to meet Bentivoglio again, and they immediately 
retired into a corner, and plunged into Asia IMinor and 
coins. Edith looked very well, did the honours simply 
and graciously; and Peruzzi really not changed — always 
the same tall, handsome, aristocratic type. 

Last night was Lottie Van Schaick's ball, very gay 
and handsome. Mary wouldn't go — so I chaperoned the 
two girls — Beatrice and Rosa Sternberg. They made a 
very pretty contrast — Rosa von Sternberg is fair and 
slight, a pretty, graceful figure. Beatrice on rather a 
larger scale, with a very white skin, and beautiful dark 

* N^e Story, daughter of W^. W. Story, the sculptor. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 19 

eyes. W. and Charles Bunsen came too, but didn't stay 
very long. We went late as the Florence balls always 
last so long. I met quantities of old friends, and made 
a tour de valse with Carlo Alessandri for the sake of old 
times. W. was much amused to see all the older men 
still dancing. At the Paris balls the danseurs are all 
so young — few of the married men dance — only the very 
young ones. I didn't wait for the cotillon — it hadn't 
begun at 3.30. The supper is always before the cotillon 
which of course prolongs the festivity. 

I was lazy this morning, as we came in so late last 
night, so W. and I only went for a turn in the Boboli 
Gardens. The shade was so thick it was almost black — 
but it was resting to the eyes. There are very few 
flowers, one had a general impression of green. This 
afternoon we have been driving about leaving cards, and 
ending with a turn in the Cascine. There everything 
seemed exactly the same as when we lived there ten years 
ago. The same people driving about in the same car- 
riages, and everybody drawing up on the Piazza, and 
talking to their neighbours. It amused me to drive down 
the Lungarno to our bridge. There were quantities of 
carriages and people lounging on the pavement, and look- 
ing at the river. The instant one crosses the bridge it 
is perfectly different — narrow streets, high walls, few 
carriages, no loiterers. 

Our garden was beautiful to-night — a splendid moon 
just rising over the black trees, and a soft delicious air. 
We have had a quiet evening, talking and reading in the 
small salon. Charles was very interesting, talking about 
old Italy and their beginnings in Turin. It seems the 
etiquette of that Court was something awful. Mary told 
us that she was talking one day to the Marchesa S. (a 
lively little old lady who took snuff) who had been in 



20 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

her time a famous wit and beauty, dame d'honneur to the 
wife of Carlo Alberto. Mary was rather complaining of 
the inconvenience of going to the winter reception of the 
Duchess of Genoa (she had only one in the year) where 
all the ladies of the Corps Diplomatique were obliged 
to go in full dress decolletee at about 4 in the afternoon. 
" Ah, ma chere," said the old Marchesa, " what would 
you have said in our time? " She told her that when the 
Queen-Mother was ill in the winter at the Chateau of 
Stupinigi, some miles from Turin, all her ladies had to 
go and inquire for her in full dress and manteaux de 
cour, and that w'hen they knew she was in bed, and could 
see no one. Mary has splendid Italian lace which she 
bought from one of the ladies of the old Queen after her 
death. It would cost a fortune now% and in fact could 
not be had unless some private individual in reduced cir- 
cumstances was obliged to sell. I had a nice visit from 
Alberti to-day — just the same — gay, impossible, saying 
the most risque things in a perfectly natural w^ay, so that 
you can hardly realize the enormities you are listening 
to. They don't sound so bad in Italian — I think the lan- 
guage veils and poetizes everything. He is very anxious 
we should go out and spend the day at Signa — his most 
lovely place — and I wish we could, I should like W. to 
see it — so much natural beauty — and, with our northern 
ideas, so absolutely neglected — splendid rooms, painted 
ceilings — no practical furniture of any kind, and a gar- 
den that was a dream of wild beauty — flowers every- 
wdiere, climbing up over the roof, around bits of grey 
w^all, long grass that almost twnsted around one's feet, 
and such a view from the terrace. I told W. afterward 
of our great day there long ago, w^hen we started at 10 
in the morning and got back at 2 a.m. I wonder if 
you remember the day? We w^ere a large party — Van 



is8o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 21 

Schaicks, Maquays, Coxes, and others whose names I 
forget and pretty much every man in Florence (of all 
nationalities). We started by rail — the women all in 
light muslin dresses and hats. We were met by car- 
riages of all kinds — Alberti's own little pony-trap — and 
a collection of remarkable vehicles from all the neigh- 
bouring villages. The drive was short, but straight up 
a steep hill — the villa most beautifully situated at the 
top, with a background of green hills. Two or three 
rooms had been arranged for us — so we took off cloaks — 
a nice, sympathetic Italian woman brushed off the dust — 
and we went at once to breakfast in the state dining- 
room — the big doors on the terrace open. Some of the 
men had their breakfast out there. After breakfast we 
all wandered about the garden — such thick shade that 
it was quite comfortable. It was pretty to see the white 
figures flitting in and out among the trees. About 3 I got 
into a riding skirt and loose jacket, and went for a ride 
with Albert! and a Frenchman, Brinquant, a friend of 
Alberti — very gay, and entrain, and perfectly amused at 
the entertainment — so sans fagon and original. We had 
a lovely ride — through such narrow roads — branches of 
the orange trees and roses nearly coming into our faces 
as we cantered along the little steep paths. I had a pretty 
little mare — perfectly sure-footed, which was an abso- 
lute necessity as the hill paths were very steep, with many 
curves, and full of rolling stones. We pottered about for 
an hour, and when we got home I thought I would re- 
tire to one of the rooms and rest for half an hour before 
I got back into my afternoon dress, but that was a delu- 
sion. They all came clamouring at the door, and insisted 
upon my coming out at once, as the whole party were to 
be photographed. As I was perfectly confident that they 
would all come in if I didn't come out, there was nothing 



11 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

to be done, and I joined the group. It was rather a long 
affair, but at the end seemed satisfactory. Then we had 
tea on the terrace, and sat there watching the sun go 
down behind the Signa hills, leaving that beautiful after- 
glow which one only sees in Italy — the green tints par- 
ticularly. 

Three or four men came out for dinner who hadn't 
been able to get off early (diplomates, I fancy, for they 
were certainly the only men in this gay city who had any 
occupation), also a tapeur * and little objets for the cotil- 
lon. We did have about an hour before dinner to rest 
and make ourselves look as nice as we could — but 
naturally a long, hot day wandering about in a garden, 
and sitting on half-ruined crumbling stone walls doesn't 
improve muslin dresses. The dinner was very gay and 
good, and the hour on the terrace afterward with coffee, 
enchanting. One or two of the men had brought guitars, 
and there were scraps of songs, choruses, " stornelli," 
going on all the time. One man, with a lovely tenor 
voice, sat on the lower step singing anything — every- 
thing — the rest of us joining in when we knew the song. 
The terrace was quite dark — the house brilliantly lighted 
standing out well ; and every now and then the Italian 
servants would appear at the door with their smiling 
faces — black eyes and white teeth — evidently restraining 
themselves with difficulty from joining in the choruses. 
I really don't think Mary's " Bacco " could have resisted, 
I always hear him and Francesco singing merrily over 
their work in the morning. They certainly are an easy- 
going, light-hearted race, these modern Florentines. 
One can hardly believe that they are the descendants of 
the fierce old Medici who sit up so proud and cold on 
their marble tombs at San Lorenzo. 

* Man to play on the piano 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 23 

We began the cotillon about 10, and it lasted an hour 
and a half. There were 10 couples, plenty of flowers and 
ribbons, and, needless to say, an extraordinary "entrain." 
We ended, of course, with the " Quadrille infernal " 
(which Alberti always leads with the greatest spirit), 
made a long chain all through the house down the ter- 
race steps (such a scramble) and finally dispersed in the 
garden. I shouldn't like to say what the light dresses 
looked like after that. We started back to Florence 
about midnight in two coaches — such a beautiful drive. 
The coming out of the gates, and down the steep hill with 
a bad road and a narrow turn was rather nervous work 
— but we finally emerged on the broad high-road looking 
like a long silver ribbon in the moonlight winding down 
the valley. We had the road quite to ourselves — it was 
too late for revellers, and too early for market people, 
so we could go a good pace, and galloped up and down 
the hills, some of them decidedly steep. It was a splen- 
did night — that warm southern moon (so unlike our cold 
white moonlight) throwing out every line sharply. It was 
just 3 o'clock when we drew up at Casa Guadagni. 

I didn't intend to write so much about Signa, but I 
had just been telling it all to W., and I think it will 
amuse the family in America. 

To H. L. K. 

Villa McDonnell, 
February 15, 1880. 

I try and write every day, but it is not easy. We are 
out all the time. The weather is divine, and it seems 
wicked to stay indoors. W. and I go out every morning, 
and we do a good deal of sight-seeing in a pleasant, idle 
way. I go sometimes to the Boboli Gardens and wait 
for him there when he has letters to write. It is all so 



24 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

unlike our Florence of ten years ago; I love the quiet 
grey streets. The gardens are delicious; dark and cool; 
you see no one, hear nothing but the splash of the foun- 
tains, and the modern busy world doesn't exist. I am 
becoming quite intimate with the custode — he is most 
friendly — smiles all over when W. appears — and re- 
marked the other day casually when he was late and I 
was waiting at the gate, " II marito si fa aspettare." 
This morning we pottered about the Ponte Vecchio, 
where all the shops look exactly the same, and apparently 
the same old wrinkled men bending over their pearls and 
turquoises. So many foreigners have bought pearls that 
the prices have all gone up. There has been a great in- 
flux of strangers these last days as Easter is early, and 
we hear English on all sides. Two pretty fair-haired 
English girls were loitering about the bridge and shops, 
attracting much attention and admiration, quite freely 
expressed, from some of the numerous young men who 
are always lounging about ; but the admiration is so genu- 
ine and so open that no one could be angry or consider 
it an impertinence. 

Do you remember one of my first Italian experiences 
in crossing the Piazza di Spagna one afternoon with my 
white kitten on my shoulder, and one of the group of 
"paini"* standing at the door of the bank remarked 
smilingly, " Che gatto fortunate ! " I was rather taken 
aback but pleased certainly. At Doney's in the Via 
Tuornabuoni, there is always the same group of men on 
the pavement about tea-time, when every one goes in for 
a cup of tea or chocolate — all much interested in the 
pretty girls who go in and out — also the society men 
standing at the door of the Club making remarks and 
criticising, with rather more reserve perhaps. 

* Young bourgeois. 



iS8o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 25 

We took a fiacre when we had crossed the bridge and 
drove to Santa Maria Novella. The black and white 
fagade looked like an old friend, also the spezeria where 
we used to buy the sachets of iris powder in the old days. 
We wandered all over the church, looked at the frescoes 
and the wonderful Cimabue Madonna, and then through 
the cloisters. A monk (one of the few left) in the long 
white robe of the Dominicans was working in the garden. 
He looked very picturesque in the little square of green, 
and was apparently engrossed in his work as he didn't 
even turn his head to look at us. He w^asn't at all an old 
man as we saw when he raised himself — was tall and 
broad-shouldered. What a life it must be for a man in 
the full force of strength and health. One can under- 
stand it in the old days before books and printing, when 
the Dominicans and Benedictines were students and their 
parchments made history, but now when everybody reads 
and discusses everything it seems incredible that a man 
should condemn himself to such an existence. 

We dined at the Tchiatcheffs, and on our way home 
crossed a procession of " la Misericordia " ; all the men 
with long cloaks and cowls drawn tight over their faces, 
with slits for the eyes. One could see nothing but 
Ijright, keen eyes, impossible to recognise any one. I be- 
lieve men of all classes belong to the society, and we 
had probably various friends among them. I suppose they 
were going to get a corpse (which is always done at night 
in Florence, or, in fact, everywhere in Italy) and their 
low, melancholy chant rather haunted me. They say they 
do a great deal of good when there is an accident or 
a case of malignant fever, in transporting the patient to 
a hospital ; but it was an uncanny sight. They tell me 
they went to get a young Englishman the other day who 
had fever, and was to be moved from the hotel to a private 



26 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

hospital. It was the doctor's suggestion, and I am sure 
they carried him quite well and gently, but it seems his 
poor wife went nearly mad when the procession arrived, 
and she saw all those black eyes gleaming from behind 
the cowls. 

We have been this afternoon to tea at " Camerata," the 
Halls' Villa. The drive out was charming, the day beau- 
tiful and bright, flowers everywhere. Quantities of 
peasant children ran alongside the carriage as we toiled 
up the hills, chattering volubly (many Inglesi thrown 
in) and holding out little brown hands filled with yellow 
flowers. The Camerata garden and terrace were lovely. 
It was still a little cool to sit out, so we had tea inside. 
The lawn was blue with violets, and there were quanti- 
ties of yellow flowers, crocuses, narcissi everywhere, 
roses just beginning. We met various old friends there 
— principally English — among others Miss Arbuthnot, 
looking quite the same; and the two Misses Forbes who 
have a charming apartment in Florence — we went there 
to tea the other day. Our friend and compatriot, Mrs. 
K., was also there; very dressy and very foolish; poor 
dear she never was wise. She was glad to see me, was 
sure I was enjoying the change and rest after my " full 
life " ; then " Did you live in Paris? " I felt Hke saying, 
" No, French Cabinet Ministers usually live in Yoko- 
hama," but I desisted from that plaisanterie as I was sure 
she would go away under the impression that W. had 
been a member of the Japanese Cabinet. W. doesn't like 
my jokes — thinks they are frivolous. 

February 17, 1880. 
Our Talleyrand dinner last night was handsome and 
pleasant. He wa* for years French Ambassador at 
Petersburg (Baron Charles de Talleyrand-Perigord), 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE ay 

and is the type of the clever, old-fashioned French gentle- 
man and diplomatist. He married a Russian, Mile. 
Bernadaky. She is very amiable, has a beautiful voice 
and beautiful jewels. I had Carlo Alessandri next to me, 
and we plunged into old times. After dinner Talley- 
rand and W. talked politics in the fumoir. He is of 
course quite " d'un autre bord " and thinks Republican 
France " grotesque," but W. said he was so moderate 
and sensible, not at all narrow-minded, understanding 
that a dififerent opinion was quite possible, that it was 
interesting to discuss with him. Talleyrand confided to 
]\Iary afterward that he couldn't understand a man of 
her brother's intelligence and education being a Repub- 
lican. 

Madame de Talleyrand didn't sing, had a cold. I was 
very sorry as I told her I should have liked to hear her 
sing again " Divinite du Styx." It will be always asso- 
ciated in my mind with the French-German war when 
we were all at Ouchy together hearing fresh disasters 
every day. 

This afternoon we went to have tea with "Ouida"* 
at her villa outside Florence. She was most anxious W. 
should come to her — which he agreed to do — though 
afternoon visits are not much in his line. As we w^ere 
rather a large party we went out in detachments, and 
Madame de Tchiatcheff drove me. We arrived before 
the Bunsens and W. Ouida came to the gate to meet 
us, and Madame Tchiatcheff named me. She w^as civil, 
but before I had time to say that M. Waddington was 
coming in another carriage, she looked past me, saying, 
" Et Monsieur Waddington — il ne vient done pas," with 
such evident disappointment and utter indifiference to the 
presence of Madame Waddington that I was rather taken 

* Mile, de la Ramee. 



os irAi.iAX i.irri-RS [fv.«. 

aback; but I suppose geniuses must not he judged like 
other peviple. I was rather cHsapixMuted in her appear- 
ance. 1 expected to see her dressed either in " prinuose 
satin witli trails of white lace/' or as an Italian peasant, 
and she really looked like any one else — her hair cut short 
and a most intelligent face. She was interesting w hen she 
talked alxHit Italy and the absolute poverty of the peo- 
ple. She spoke either h^ench or luiglish. both equally 
well. When the visit had been talked of at home we had 
told W. he must read, or at any rate look over one of 
her books. 1 didn't think he could undertake one of her 
long novels. " Idalia " for instance, where the heroine 
wanders for days through wood and dale attired in a 
white satin ilress. and arrives at her destination looking 
like "a tall, beautiful, pure lily"; but I think he might 
like one of her short Italian stories, which are charm- 
ing, such Ivautiful descriptions. I always rememlvr one 
of her sentences. *' There is nothing in the world so beau- 
tiful as the smile of Italy to the awakening Spring." 
One felt that to-day in the garden, every bud was burst- 
ing, everything looked green and fresh and young. 

Our dinner at home to-night was most agreeable. We 
had Mile, de Weling, a great friend of the Uunsens. 
a clever, interesting woman whose girlhood was passed 
at the old Nassau castle at Bieberich on the Rhine. Her 
mother was one of the Duchess's ladies. I know the 
place well, and used often to walk through the beautiful 
park to the Rhine when I was staying with Mary. It is 
quite shut up and deserted now. The old Duke held 
out against United Imperial G^nnany. and never lived in 
his Schloss after Nassau was annexed. It is a grand old 
house with all its great windows and balconies facing 
the Rhine. One could quite imagine an animated court 
life (small court) there, with music, and riding, and ex- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 29 

cursions on the river. It is rather melancholy to see 
such a fine old place deserted. 

We had, too, Comandi, an Italian who occupies himself 
with orphan boys, and has a home for them near here 
somewhere in the country whicli we are going to see some 
day. Anna cle Weling, too, has founded one or two small 
homes in different parts of Germany. She read us a 
letter the other day from one of her boys, quite grown 
up now, whom she had placed. It began " Wir brauchen 
JJcinkleidcr " (we need trousers) — so naif. The conver- 
sation was almost entirely in Italian as Comandi speaks 
no other language. All the Bunsens speak of course 
perfectly — they lived in Italy for so many years at the 
beginning of their diplomatic career. Mrs. Wadding- 
ton is (juite wonderful, speaks and reads it perfectly. 
I ler nice little parlatrice is devoted to her. 

February 19, 1880. 
We have had two nice days. Yesterday we walked 
straight across the bridge to the Piazza del Duomo — 
walked about the Cathedral and the Baptistery trying to 
make out the Saints' processions, and figures on the mar- 
vellous bronze doors — but it would take weeks of study 
to understand them. I was tired, and sat (very uncom- 
fortably) on a sort of pointed stone near the gates while 
\V. examined them. I really think I like the Piazza and 
the open air and the street life as much as anything else, 
^riiere was so much movement, flower stalls, fruit, cakes, 
those extraorrlinary little straw bottles of wine, children 
Inlaying and tumbling all over the place (evidently com- 
pulsory education doesn't bother them much), and always 
quantities of men standing about doing nothing, wrapped 
up in their long cloaks, but what a wonderful cadre for 
it nil. Tlic Duomo, Palazzrj Vecchio. Loggia, etc. — one 



30 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

can't imagine now the horrors that have been perpetrated 
in that very square. I told the family the other day I 
wanted to read " Nicolo dei Lapi " over again, and they 
all jeered at me; but I must get it somewhere; it will 
take me straight back to Frascati and the long hot days 
of the cholera summer when I was reading it, and trying 
so hard with my imperfect and school-girl translation to 
make you understand the beauty and horrors of the book. 
I was telling Mrs. W'addington the other day of our 
life at Frascati — the great cholera year at Albano 
(1869), when so many people died — the Dowager Queen 
of Naples, Princess Colonna, and Cardinal Altieri, who 
came straight out to his villa as soon as the cholera broke 
out (which it did quite suddenly). He was wonderful 
— went about everywhere in all the poor little houses, 
relieving and encouraging the sick and dying, holding up 
the cross to the poor dim eyes when life was too nearly 
gone for any words to avail ; and finally was struck down 
himself and died in two days. How terribly lonely and 
cut off we felt — Dr. Valery was the only person we saw. 
He was allowed to come out every day from Rome, but 
was fumigated at the station at Frascati, and again in 
Rome when he got back, obliged to change his clothes 
outside the gate before coming into the city. We were 
never at all nervous about the cholera. I don't think 
there was one case at Frascati, and of course all our 
thoughts were centred in that great big room with its 
pink walls and mosaic floor where father* lay desperately 
ill. It seems like a dream now, those hot summer nights, 
when we used to go out on the terrace (upon which his 
room opened) to get bouillon, ice, etc., and we fancied 
we could see the cloud of disease hovering over the Cam- 

* Charles King, President of Columbia College, father of Madame 
Waddington. 




President Charles King of Columbia College, New York City. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 31 

pagna. When it was moonlight, and such moonhght, 
that beautiful golden, southern moon, we saw a long 
white line in the distance — the sea. Circulation was very- 
difficult, all the roads leading to Albano were barred, and 
guarded by zouaves ; and of course we heard tales of hor- 
ror from the Italian servants, always most talkative and 
graphic in their descriptions. However on the w^hole 
they behaved well. We used to ride every day, and 
always passed a little chapel on the way to Castel Gan- 
dolfo, which was filled with people kneeling and praying 
— a long line stretching out quite across the road to a 
little shrine just opposite. They used to make way for 
us to pass without getting off their knees, only stretching 
out their hands for anything the Principesse americane 
would give them. 

Some of the women were quite absorbed, looking hard 
at the Madonna in her shrine as if they expected some 
visible sign of pity, or promise of help. I rather envied 
them their simple faith ; it must help them through many 
moments of trial and discouragement. 

As usual I seem to have wandered from my original 
subject, but Italy is so full of memories. We w^ere too 
tired to walk home, besides were a little late, so we took 
a fiacre with a most friendly coachman, who saw at once 
that we were strangers, pointed out all the places of in- 
terest, and said it would be a delightful afternoon for 
Fiesole, and he would come and get us if we w'ould name 
the hour. 

We found lots of letters and papers at the house, and 
W. plunged into Paris and politics after breakfast. I 
went for a drive with Mary and Beatrice to the Villa 
Careggi. The house is nothing remarkable — a large 
square building with enormous rooms, deep fireplaces, 
and very high ceilings. Some good frescoes on the walls. 



3^ 



ITALIAN LETTERS [Feh. 



The garden and terraces were enchanting — the sun really 
too warm on the terrace — always a divine view; blue- 
purple hills rolling away in the distance, and funny, 
crooked little roads shut in between high walls, with 
every now and then a gap, or a gate, which gave one 
glimpses of straggling, unkempt gardens, with a wealth 
of flowers and vines. 

We had a quiet dinner and evening, which we all en- 
joyed. W. smoked and talked a great deal of the past 
year and the last days at the Quai d'Orsay. He doesn't 
miss the life in the least, which rather surprises me; I 
thought he would be so bored with suddenly nothing to 
do, and no part to play in the world's history ; but I see 
that the absolute rest and being with all his family is 
doing him so much good. It is extraordinary how soon 
one forgets, and takes up a quiet life again. Already 
the whirl and fatigues of the Exhibition year seem so 
far away I feel as if somebody else had lived that life. 
I cannot imagine myself now dining out (and not ordi- 
nary dinners, official banquets) 19 nights in succession, 
but I suppose I should begin again quite naturally if we 
returned to public life. 

Did you see the article in the " Frangais " saying 
" M. Waddington will now have all the rest of his life 
before him to consecrate to his studies " ? I wonder ! 
This morning we had our usual walk — as W. was ready 
at ten o'clock I didn't make my regular station in the 
Boboli Gardens. We went to Vieusseux about a book 
W. wanted, and then into the bank to pay George Maquay 
a visit. He was most cheerful, and showed us a nice 
article in the " Times " regretting very much W.'s de- 
parture from the Foreign Office, " one of the few men 
who could look ahead a little, and who was independent, 
not limited in his views by what the Chamber of Depu- 



i88o] OF A DirLOMAT'S WIFE ^3 

ties would think." I was rather pleased, but W. is very 
calm about all newspaper articles. He always has a 
" mauvaise presse " as we don't soigncr any paper. I 
fancy, though, Henrietta is right when she says the next 
time he takes office she means to buy one — so many peo- 
ple believe imjilicitly all they see in a paper, especially 
when it says what you want to belie^'e. 

We did a little shopping, I wanted some veils, and W. 
remained outside looking at the grim old Strozzi Palace, 
standing like a great fortress with its huge stones and 
heavy doors in the middle of all the busy, bustling life 
of the Tornabuoni. I think it is the one street in Flor- 
ence where people move about quickly, and as if they 
were going somewhere. Everywhere else there are 
crowds of people, men especially, doing nothing but sit- 
ting all day in the sun looking at the passers-by. 

We hadn't time to w'alk over to San Lorenzo, so hailed 
a fiacre, and wandered about there for some time. I was 
delighted to see the Medici Chapel again and the famous 
monument of Lorenzo. He does look as if he were think- 
ing out some great problem — I wonder what he would 
think of our go-ahead, unartistic world, and of our poli- 
ticians, so timorous and afraid of responsibility — at least 
the men of that race were strong for good or for evil. 
When they wanted anything they did all they coukl to 
get it. I don't know that the women were behindhand 
either in energy when one thinks of Queen Catherine and 
of all the Huguenots she disposed of one summer evening 
in Paris. Do you remember our friend ]\Irs. A., a con- 
verted Catholic, whom we overheard one night at the 
Opera when they were shooting all the Huguenots in the 
last act, telling her daughter (remained a Protestant) 
that the Saint Bartholomew had nothing to do with 
Catholics and Protestants ; was entirely a political move. 



34 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

We have had a long- drive this afternoon with Mary 
and Charles, up the Poggio Imperiale — a stiff climb but 
such a beautiful road — villas, cypresses, olive trees, and 
roses everywhere. We went up to the Certosa, where 
a nice old monk, in his white dress, showed us the church 
and monastery. It was dark and rather cold in the 
church, and notliing particular to see — good frescoes and 
many coloured marbles — but the terrace outside was de- 
lightful. There were not too many beggars on the road 
considering that it is the favourite drive in Florence, and 
of course the carriage people are at a disadvantage as 
they must go slowly up the hill, and are escorted by a 
long troop of children singing, dancing with a sort of 
tambourine, turning somersaults, and enjoying life gen- 
erally, whether they get a few pennies or not. It is very 
difficult to resist the children with their smiling faces and 
evident desire to amuse the " forestieri." 

W'e went to Casa Guadagni before we came home, and 
paid a visit to the Marchesa, who was at home. The 
same old porter was at the door, and greeted me most 
warmly, much pleased to see W. " bel uomo, il marito " — 
had I any children, and where were all the rest of the 
family? — that simple, natural Italian manner, without a 
thought of familiarity. W. was delighted with Madame 
Guadagni. She talked about everything and really didn't 
look any older. I asked about our old apartment (piano 
nobile — first floor) ; she said it was always let — generally 
to foreigners. I didn't ask if she had made any modern 
improvements since we lived there. Shall you ever for- 
get that cold winter with the doors that wouldn't open, 
and the windows that wouldn't shut, and the chimneys 
that always smoked, and the calorifere, which John 
never would light, as he was afraid it would warm the 
Guadagni rooms below? I should have liked to go 



i88o] OF A DIPLOAIAT'S WIFE ^S 

over the apartment and see the rooms again — the big- 
ball-room where we danced so often and had so much 
music. We wound up with a turn in the Cascine, draw- 
ing up in the Piazza alongside of Lottie's carriage, which 
was of course surrounded by all the gilded youth of Flor- 
ence. Maquay came to talk to us, Carlo Alessandri 
and Serristori, whom I hadn't yet seen. He was just 
the same (laughing and criticising) as in the old days 
when some of the swells appeared in so-called Worth gar- 
ments, which he said were all made in a little room over 
his stables, ])y the wife and daughters of one of his men. 
I was glad to get in and have a quiet hour to write 
before dinner. I am at my table close up to the open 
window. The air is soft and delicious — the garden 
just beginning to look dark and mysterious in the wan- 
ing light. The group of cypresses (I don't know how 
to write that in the plural, it looks funny) always black. 
I was called off various times, and must finish now as we 
are going to dine at the Maquays — we being ourselves, 
Mary, and Charles. We generally go about a family 
party. 

Sunday, February 21, 1880. 
We are making our pacquets as we have decided to 
leave for Rome on Monday (22). The Schuylers are 
clamouring for us, and though I hate to leave here I really 
think we ought to go. As W. has never seen Rome 
two months will not be too much. We shan't have much 
more as he wants to get home for the Conseil General. 
The Schuylers want to have a big reception for us, and 
would like next Sunday week, so I think we really shall 
get off this time. The longer we stay the more invita- 
tions we have. It has been all quite charming. Our 
Maquay dinner was very easy and pleasant ; the Tchiat- 



36 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

cheffs, Lottie, Alessandri, Talleyrands, Mrs. Fuller, and 
one or two stray men. The house looked so natural — 
of course the ball-room wasn't open as we were a small 
party, but they lighted it after dinner. I wanted W. to 
see how pretty it was and how light — white with red 
seats all around. How it took me back to old times? 
I seemed to see even,body settling for tlie cotillon — the 
stairs too, where we all used to sit waiting for the cotillon 
to begin. How we amused ourselves that winter in Flor- 
ence, and how scattered all that little band is now. The 
Florentines amuse themselves still — there must be some- 
thing in the air which makes people light-hearted — one 
can't imagine a serious, studious life in Florence. 

^\'e spent two hours in the L'ffizi yesterda}- looking at 
all the old friends again. I was delighted to see the dear 
little '* St. John in the Wilderness *" hanging just where 
it did before, on one side of the door in the Tribuna : 
also the Peruginos — I like them so much — his Madonnas 
with their wooden faces, but a pure, unearthly expression 
all tlie same, and the curious green colour one sees in 
all his pictures. We saw as much as we could in the two 
hours, but as it was the second visit we found our way 
about better. I never rested until I found the corridor 
with Xiobe and all her children — it used to fascinate me 
in the old days. One realized perfectly all those big 
sons and daughters, so terrified, and the last little one 
clinging to his mother's skirts. 

We went to tea, Mary and I, with Edith Peruzzi — 
quite quietly — ^as she wanted to show me her children — 
and fine specimens they are; a duck of a boy, quite 
sociable and smiling. Xina and Louisa Maquay came in 
— Louisa looked lovely. This morning I went to the 
English church with Mar}- and Beatrice. We didn't go 
out again till late — after tea — as we had various visitors. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 37 

among others Schuyler Crosby, who had asked us to dine 
but we had no evening left. I saw him riding the other 
day in the Cascine, and recognised him some way off by 
his seat. I don't know what it is, but whatever the 
Americans do, whether riding, dancing, or tennis, they 
do it differently from any one else. I was talking about 
it the other day to an Englishman who had seen some of 
the Anglo-American boat races, and he quite agreed with 
me, said their rowing was very good, but quite another 
thing from the English sport. 

We drove out again Fiesole way. It was enchanting 
— more roses come out every day. There was a perfect 
fringe of pink roses hanging over some of the old grey 
walls. i\.s it was Sunday, and a lovely day, there were 
quantities of people about. There are scarcely any cos- 
tumes left, but all Italians like bright colours, and the 
red and green fichus and aprons looked pretty and gay as 
the various groups passed us. Some of the old women 
were terribly bent, with such brown, wrinkled faces — 
one could quite see that they had toiled up and down hills 
under the Italian scorching sun all their lives, with bas- 
kets and bundles of fagots on their backs — but the old 
eyes were keen and smiling. They don't look so utterly 
starved and wretched as Ouida (and others) say they 
• are. I suppose they live on nothing, and go on quite 
simply, leading the same lives that their fathers and 
mothers did before them, without knowing of anything 
better. 

Tell Henrietta I haven't made much progress in the 
travelling work she presented me with. I did take it out 
into the drawing-room one evening, but the immediate 
result of that was disastrous. I took it out of the bag 
proudly, to show that I had silk, embroidery, scissors, 
needles, etc., like everybody else, but left it on the table. 



38 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

Somebody wanted a book or a newspaper also on the 
table ; turned everything upside down, and the work, silk, 
needles, thimble, etc., went rolling all over the floor. 
When you think of the crevasses of an old parquet floor 
in an Italian Palace, you can imagine how diflicult it was 
to find anything again. The two girls were hours on 
their knees looking for my thimble which never turned 
up — however, that will be an excellent reason for buying 
a pretty little gold thimble with a row of turquoises that 
I saw the other day in a shop on the Ponte Vecchio. 
There is evidently a fate against my becoming an ac- 
complished needlewoman, and I am afraid the " clumsy 
little fingers," which used to worry you so in the old days 
of music lessons, have not improved with advancing 
years. Perhaps I shall take to work in my old age. Isn't 
it George Sand who says (and I don't believe she ever 
took a needle in her hand), '' Don't despise our less ambi- 
tious sisters who work. Many great resolutions and si- 
lent abnegations have been woven into the bright flowers 
and delicate tracings of the embroidery in the long hours 
spent over the frame." 

Monday Night, February 22, 1880. 
We really are starting to-morrow morning — trunks are 
packed, compartment engaged, and we have said good- 
bye to everybody. I made a last little turn this morning 
in the Boboli Gardens. I didn't see the custode — I 
wanted to say good-bye to him. Then we went to the 
Pitti gallery, W. w^anted to see one particular Botticelli, 
" la bella Simonetta " I think, wdiich he and Mary had 
been talking about, and which we had missed the other 
day. It is quite impossible to see everything. I had re- 
membered pretty well the principal pictures. Then we 
took a fiacre and went out to San Marco to see the 



i88o] OF A DIPLO^IAT"S WIFE 39 

Fra Angelicos and Savonarola's cell. We had never 
once got there, there is always so much to do. We 
walked through the cloisters first — the frescoes are per- 
fectly well preserved — some of Fra Angelico's and others 
less interesting. I wanted to see the cells, and was 
quite pleased to recognise the " Coronation of the Vir- 
gin " and the " Madonna and Child " surrounded by 
angels, all in their long green-blue robes with wings and 
musical instruments of all kinds. As usual people were 
copying them, and I will try and find a pretty one and 
bring it back. I want the one in a sort of light green 
dress blowing a trumpet. The faces are quite beautiful, 
so pure. He must have had a wonderful imagination — 
I wonder if he believed angels look like that? Somehow 
or other I always think of an angel in a white robe. We 
saw of course Savonarola's cell, and they showed us his 
rosary, and a piece of wood which is supposed to have 
been taken from his funeral pile. It all looked so peace- 
ful and smiling to-day, one could hardly realize the long 
hours of doubt and self-torture passed in these solitary 
cells. There is a fine description in one of the numerous 
books the Bunsens have on Florence, of Savonarola's 
preaching — all the people congregated in the great 
square before the church, when there was no longer any 
room inside, leaving their shops and their work to come 
and listen to him. That is one of the delightful things 
in this household, you can always find a book in almost 
any language about any subject that interests you, relig- 
ion, music, politics, everything. 

Beatrice has a delightful German magazine, " Monat- 
sheft," very well illustrated, with all the modern German 
literature, stories, essays, criticisms, etc. One could al- 
most wish for a rainy day or a quiet evening to read a 
little. 



40 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

W. went off by himself the other night and had a very 
pleasant evening. First to the Piccolellis' where he found 
a small party and his old friend Bentivoglio. with whom 
he had travelled in the East. Of course they instantly 
got into a corner and talked shop (medals). Then to 
Lottie Van Schaick who had a few friends, where he 
amused himself very much. 

Gertrude writes that our rooms are very nice, and the 
man at the hotel delighted to have us. I wonder what 
Rome will be like. It will seem funny to be back there 
again, a respectable middle-aged lady. I think one should 
always be young and gay to live in Italy. 

We had a fine musical evening Saturday with the 
Landi family — five; mother, father, daughter, son, and 
grandfather. Madame Landi sang anything, everything, 
delightfully. Some of the stornelli and peasant songs, 
those particularly of the Abruzzi mountains, were charm- 
ing. I wonder what Italians have got in their " gosier " 
that we haven't, that gives such a charm to their simplest 
song. I sang once or twice in French, and then Madame 
Landi and I did some duos in Italian which went very 
well. She was very complimentary over my Italian (I 
told it triumphantly to W., but he remains under the im- 
pression of the razor), said it was evident I had learnt 
in Rome; the language is so much softer, or rather the 
pronunciation *' Lingua toscana in bocca romana." 

The old father was killing, knew everything, was 
wildly interested, and criticised freely. I think the 
daughter will have a very pretty voice, like her mother's, 
a rich, low mezzo. 

I was called off by some visits, and will finish now. 
My letter will go to-morrow morning. We don't start 
very early — 9.30 — but I shall not have time to write any- 
thing more. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 41 



To H. L. K. 

Hotel de Londres, Rome, 

February 24, 1880. 

We arrived last evening for dinner, dear mother, and 
are most comfortably settled. We have a nice apart- 
ment on the second floor — a large bright salon with a 
good bed-room on either side of it for me and W., and a 
very fair anteroom where Madame Hubert has just had 
another wardrobe put up. She interviewed the gerant 
and made it clear to him that it was impossible for her 
to unpack her mistress's dresses until she had something 
suitable to put them in. We found flowers and papers 
on the table from the Schuylers, ]\Irs. Bruce, and the 
proprietor of the hotel. 

I thought we should never get away from Florence. 
We were so happy there with the Bunsens and Mrs. Wad- 
dington, and every day there was something to see or do. 
The weather was divine the last days — the hills were 
quite a pink-purple sometimes as we drove home after 
sunset, and quantities of roses climbing up all the old 
grey walls. We had a very easy journey — they had 
reserved a carriage for us, which was a good precaution, 
as the train was crowded. We got to Rome about six. 
\V. was quite excited as we approached (it is too funny 
to think that he had never been here), and very anxious 
for the first glimpse of St. Peter's. I can't say we saw 
the dome from a great distance — I fancy it depends upon 
which way you enter Rome. We found the Schuylers at 
the station with a carriage, and drove at once to the ho- 
tel, where Gert had ordered tea and a pannettone. If 
I hadn't known I was coming to Rome I should never 
have believed it on arriving at the station. It was so 



42 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

unlike the little old Termine of our Roman days — 
the funny little station so far away, with few porters or 
cabs, and comparatively few voyageurs. I was quite be- 
wildered with the rush into this great, modern station, 
with porters and officials of all kinds, and all the bustle 
of a great city. 

I looked in vain for some familiar landmarks as we 
came along. Nothing. The new streets, Via Garibaldi 
and Nazionale — an abomination, tall ugly maisons de lo- 
cation and official buildings so new and regular — awful! 
It wasn't until we got into the town and near the Piazza 
di Spagna that I really felt that I was back in Rome ; that 
of course was unchanged. It brought back such a flood 
of memories as we passed 20, and all the first happy days 
in Rome came back to me, before father's illness, when 
he enjoyed everything so much, and wrote to Uncle John 
that " the hours were golden." The " barca " looked 
just the same, with boys and women leaning up against 
the stones, flower-girls on the Spanish Steps, and even 
old Nazzari's low, dark shop opposite looked picturesque. 
W. was quite surprised to see me so sentimental, though 
I had warned him that for me there was no place in the 
world like Rome. 

The Schuylers stayed talking some little while, then 
had to go, as they were dining out, but promised to come 
in after dinner. W. asked me if I was too tired to go 
for a little stroll (the tea had refreshed us), so we started 
up the Spanish Steps to the Villa Medici, where we 
had that beautiful view of Rome. I showed him the 
stone pines of the Doria-Pamphili, which stood out splen- 
didly against the last bright clouds of the sunset — it was 
quite lovely. We stayed out quite late, and were re- 
ceived with respectful, but decidedly disapproving greet- 
ings from the gerant when we came in. It was not at 



i88oj OF A DIPLO:\IAT'S WIFE 43 

all prudent for " Eccelleiiza '' and Madame to remain out 
late, particularly as they must be very tired after a long 
journey. We dined downstairs in the big dining-room. 
There was a long table d'hote full — people about half 
through their dinner — and at the extreme end of the room 
live or six small tables, one of which had been reserved 
for us. I didn't see any one I knew, but two men got 
up and bowed as we passed. The dinner was good — 
the head waiter hovering about us all the time, and of 
course always addressing W. as " Eccellenza." We had 
coffee upstairs. W. smoked and I read the paper and 
one or two notes. About ten the Schuylers appeared, 
very cheerful and full of propositions of all kinds. They 
have got a big reception for us on Sunday night — Roman 
and diplomatic — and we agreed to breakfast with them 
to-day. Gert looked very well in blue, with her diamond 
necklace and feathers. They don't seem very pleased 
with Marsh — our jMinister. Ahvays the same old story 
and jealousy — the ministers consider themselves so far 
above a consul. But really when the Consul-General 
happens to be Schuyler and his wife King, one would 
think these two names would speak for themselves — for 
Americans, at any rate. 

We told Schuyler how many compliments we had had 
both in Paris and Florence for his " Peter the Great " — 
so much in it, and yet the subject one that had been 
written about so often. They went off about eleven, and 
I was glad to go to bed ; could hardly believe I was sleep- 
ing again in the Piazza di Spagna. I certainly never 
imagined when I left Rome tearfully so many years ago 
that I W'Ould come back as the wife of a French statesman. 

I w^as busy all the morning unpacking and settling my- 
self, and of course looking out of the window^ It is all 
so delightfully familiar — all the botte standing in the 



44 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

middle of the street, and the coachman trying so hard to 
understand when some Enghsh or American tourists give 
them some impossible address in Itahan — you know the 
kind of people I mean, conscientious tourists who think 
they must always speak the language of the country they 
are in, learned out of a phrase-book. We have various 
invitations, from our two Embassies, Quirinal and Vat- 
ican, also the Teanos, and W. had a nice visit from 
Lanciani, who wants to show him all Rome. We took a 
botta to go to the Schuylers. It isn't far, but I wasn't 
quite sure of finding my way the first time. They have 
a charming apartment in Palazzo Altemps, near the 
Piazza Navona, not at all far really from our hotel, and 
now that I know the way I can often walk over in the 
mornings when W. is off sight-seeing seriously with some 
of his learned friends. It is a fine old palace with a large 
open court and broad stone staircase. San Carlo Bor- 
romeo is supposed to have lived there. Their apartment 
belongs to Mrs. Terry, wife of the artist, who had ar- 
ranged it very comfortably, and the Schuylers have put in 
all their Turkish rugs, carpets, and bibelots, so it really 
looks very pretty. There are quantities of green plants 
and flowers about (they are both fond of flowers and are 
always making experiments and trying something new) 
and of course books, papers, reviews, and a piano. 

I told Gert I thought I would write to Vera and have 
some singing lessons — I have done so little singing since 
I have been married. Eugene is a charming host, and he 
and W. had plenty to talk about. I inspected Gert's 
wardrobe while they were smoking. Her dresses are all 
right, and I think her maid is good. I wrote all this after 
I came in. The man of the hotel had engaged a car- 
riage for us — a nice little victoria with a pair of greys. 
It comes from Tomba's stables — do you remember the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 45 

name? The same loueiir we had when we Hved here. 
The coachman said he remembered me perfectly, had 
often driven the " signorine " to the meets, and hoped 
la maman was well. We were lucky to get such a nice 
little carriage. The d'Aubignys, a French couple, had 
just given it up, as they were leaving the Embassy here 
for Berlin. 

We drove about a little — left cards for the Noailles, 
Desprez, Cairolis, and wound up in the Villa Borghese, 
which was again quite changed — such c|uantities of car- 
riages and people walking, also Italian officers riding, and 
soldiers, bersaglieri, etc., about. We crossed the Wim- 
pffens, looking very smiling, and saw in the distance, as 
we were coming out, the royal red liveries, but the car- 
riage was too far ofif to see who was in it. Now we are 
going to dinner, and I shall be glad to get to bed early. I 
think I am more tired than yesterday. 

Hotel de Londres, 

February 26, 18S0. 

I will begin again this afternoon, as I have a little 
time before dinner. The weather is divine, quite the 
same deep-blue sky and bright sun of our first Roman 
winter. We have had an enchanting drive out of Porta 
San Sebastiano and along the Via Appia as far as Cecilia 
Metella — everything exactly the same as when we w^re 
there so many years ago. The same peasant carts block- 
ing up the narrow gateway, everybody talking at once, 
white teeth gleaming, and quantities of little brown 
children with black eyes and jet black hair tumbling down 
over their eyes and outstretched hands for anything the 
forestieri would put into them. W. was a little disap- 
pointed at first. The road is narrow, an atrocious pave- 
ment, and high walls almost shutting out the view. How- 



46 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

ever, as we got farther out there came gaps in the walls 
through which one saw the whole stretch of the Cam- 
pagna with the Claudian Aqueduct on one side, and when 
we finally emerged into the open fields, he was delighted. 
How extraordinary all these old tombs and pyramids are, 
most of them falling in ruins, with roses and creepers of 
all kinds holding them together. On one of the largest 
round tombs there was a peasant house with a garden and 
vines, and smoke coming out of the chimney, perched 
quite on the top, with a steep, stony path winding down, 
where the coachman told me the donkey went up and 
down, as he too lived in the house with the family. Some 
of the tombs are very high — real towers. There is 
hardly a trace of marble or inscription left, but the origi- 
nal building so strong that the walls remain. 

The queer old tombs, towers, and bits of ruins all along 
the road interested W. immensely; though he has never 
been here he knows them all from photographs and repro- 
ductions, and could tell me a great deal more than I could 
tell him. We went as far as the round tomb of Cecilia 
Metella, and then got out and walked a little. I wanted 
to show him the low wall which we used to jump always 
when the meet was at Cecilia Metella, Do you remember 
the first time you came out to see us jump, not at a hunt 
but one afternoon with Dyer practising to see what the 
horses and riders would do ? You saw us start at a can- 
ter for the wall, and then shut your eyes tight until we 
called out to you from the other side. 

This morning W. and I had our first regular turn at 
sight-seeing. We took a nice little botta on the Piazza, 
had our Baedeker — a red one, like all the tourists — and 
were quite happy. Some of the old colleagues were 
highly entertained seeing us driving about with our 
Baedeker ; said it was W. under a wholly different aspect. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 47 

We wandered about the Vatican for two hours, seeing 
quantities of things — Sistine Chapel. Stanze Raphael, 
Apollo Belvedere, etc., and always a beautiful view over 
the gardens. Later, he says, he must do it all regularly 
and intelligently with one of his men friends, as I natu- 
rally could not stand for hours recognising and decipher- 
ing an old inscription. I left him from time to time, sat 
down on one of the stone benches, talked to the custode, 
looked at the other people, and gave them any informa- 
tion I could. It interested me to see the different nation- 
alities — almost entirely English, American, German, very 
few Italian, and no French — yes, one artist, a rather nice 
looking young fellow who was copying something on the 
ceiling of one of the " Stanze," rather a difficult process 
apparently. There were many more women than men — 
groups of English spinsters doing their sights most thor- 
ougliJy — the Americans more casual. The Apollo looked 
splendid, so young and spirited. We walked some little 
distance, coming home before we could get a fiacre, and 
I had forgotten how cruel that Roman pavement was. I 
don't believe any of my boots will stand it ; I shall have 
to get somewhere here a pair of thick-soled walking 
shoes. 

We had a quiet hour after breakfast. I have arranged 
a ladies' corner in the drawing-room. I was in despair 
the first two days over the room. I had never lived in 
small hotel quarters with a man, and I had no idea how 
disorderly they are. The table was covered with pens, 
papers — piles of them, three or four days old, thick with 
dust — cigars, cigar ashes over everything, two or three 
large, bulky black portfolios, very often a pot hat, etc. 
So we compromised ; W. took one end of the room and 
I the other. I obtained from the gerant (thanks to Ma- 
dame Hubert, who is very pretty and on the best of 



48 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

terms with him) a small table, large china vase for a 
plant, a nice arm-chair, and a cushion for the sofa, bor- 
rowed a table-cloth from Gert, also some small things 
for my table, and my end looked quite respectable and 
feminine. The room is large, so we can really get on 
very well. We had a pleasant visit from the Marquis 
de Noailles, French Ambassador to the Quirinal, before 
we went out. He has a charming, easy manner. We 
are to breakfast at the Embassy, Palazzo Farnese, to- 
morrow for me to make Madame de Noailles's ac- 
quaintance. I wonder what I shall think of her? The 
men all say she is a charmeuse. She is Polish born, was 
a beautiful woman — I think all Poles have a great charm 
of manner. 

Trocchi came in, too — so pleased to see me again and 
to make W^'s acquaintance. The two senators talked 
politics, and Noailles put me a little au courant of Roman 
society and the two camps black and white. We went 
out at 3.30, as I said before, to Cecilia Metella, and 
stopped at Gert's for tea. W. walked home, and I stayed 
a little while with her talking over the arrangements for 
their reception on Sunday. Every one — Romans, diplo- 
mats, and Americans — they have asked has accepted ; but 
their rooms are fairly large and I don't think they will 
be crowded. 

Hotel de Londres, 
Monday, February 29, 1880. 

I am still tired from the quantity of people we saw last 
night at the Schuylers. Their reception was most brill- 
iant ; all the world However, I will begin at the be- 
ginning. We went to church on Sunday, as Dr. Nevin 
came to see us Saturday afternoon and said he hoped we 
would not fail to come. W. found him clever and inter- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 49 

esting. He said he thought I should hardly recognise 
him in his new church. It is very pretty — English style, 
built by an English architect (Street) in the new quarter, 
Via Nazionale, utterly unlike the bare little room outside 
the Porta del Popolo, where we used to go and do the 
music. It makes me laugh now when I think of the con- 
gregation all embarked on a well-known hymn, when 
suddenly Henrietta would lower the tune one note — if 
I was tired, as often happened, as one of the gayest 
balls in Rome was Princess Sciarra's on Saturday night. 
When I had danced until four o'clock in the morning 
(the test of the ball was how late it lasted) it was rather 
an effort to be at church at 10.30 Sunday morning 
and sing straight through the service. Henrietta had 
the harmonium and I led the singing. I will say that 
the effect of the sudden change was disastrous from a 
musical point of view- However, we did our best. I am 
afraid Henrietta was not always faithful to Bach and 
Beethoven in her voluntaries. We had no music, and she 
played whatever she could remember, and occasionally 
there were strains of " Araby's Daughter " or " When 
the Swallows Homeward Fly," which were quite per- 
ceptible even through the minor chords. I liked doing 
it all the same, and like it still. I am so fond of the old 
hymns we used to sing as children, and should like to hear 
" Shout the Glad Tidings " every Christmas. I never 
have since we left America and Oyster Bay, where also 
we did the music, and where, when we were late some- 
times for church, Faust, the big black Newfoundland dog 
would come and bark when the bell had stopped, telling us 
quite plainly we were late — he knew all about it. 

We made the regular Sunday turn in the afternoon — 
Villa Borghese and Pincio — sent the carriage away and 
walked home by the Villa Medici. W. loves the view 



50 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

from the terrace. We met Mrs. Bruce, also looking at 
the view, and walked home together. She told W. Car- 
dinal Howard wanted to see him, had known him in Eng- 
land in the old days, also a young English monsignore — 
called English oddly enough. She will ask us all to dine 
together some night next week. I asked her if she re- 
membered her famous dinner long ago with Cardinal 
Howard and Dean Stanley. The two divines were very 
anxious to cross swords. They were such a contrast. 
Dean Stanley, small, slight, nervous, bright eyes, charm- 
ing manners, and a keen debater. The Cardinal, tall, 
large, slow, but very earnest, absolutely convinced. The 
conversation was most interesting — very animated — but 
never personal nor even vehement, though their views 
and judgments were absolutely different on all points. 
However, both were gentlemen and both large-minded. 
W. was much interested, as he knew Dean Stanley and 
his wife Lady Augusta well; they came often to Paris, 
and w'ere habitues of Madame Mohl's famous salon, 
where the literary men of all creeds and countries used to 
meet. It was there, too, that Dean Stanley and Renan 
used to meet and talk, the two great intellects finding 
points in common. I was taken there once or twice after 
I was first married. It was a curious interior; Madame 
Mohl, a little old lady, always dressed in white, with a 
group of men standing around her chair — many more 
men than women, and never more than twenty or thirty 
people. I suppose it was the type of the old French lit- 
eray salon where people went to talk. I naturally listened 
in those days, not being sufficiently up in all the political 
and literary questions, and not pinning my faith abso- 
lutely on the " Revue des Deux Mondes." Mrs. Bruce, 
too, w^as often at Madame Mohl's. 

We stopped in a few minutes at the Trinita de' Monti, 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 51 

where there was a service of some kind going on. The 
nuns were singing a low, monotonous chant behind their 
grating; the church was quite dark, hghts only on the 
altar, a few women kneeling and absorbed, and a few 
irreverent forestieri looking about and talking in whis- 
pers. We came down the Spanish Steps, which were 
quite deserted at that hour — models, beggars, flaneurs, all 
resting from their labours. 

I was glad to rest a little before dinner, and only 
dressed afterward, as I couldn't well go down to the pub- 
lic dining-room in a low red satin dress and diamonds. 
We went rather early — ten o'clock — to Palazzo x\ltemps, 
but found many people already there. The apartment 
looked very pretty, quantities of flowers and plants wher- 
ever they could be put. Gert looked very well in yellow 
satin, and Eugene is always at his best in his own house — 
very courteous and receiving people as if it were a pleasure 
to him (which I think it is). We found quantities of 
old friends — Pallavicinis, Teanos, Lovatellis. Calabrinis, 
Bandini, Pagets, Mrs. Bruce, Hooker, Grants, etc., and 
quantities of people we didn't know, and whose acquaint- 
ance we made of course — Mesdames Minghetti, Cairoli, 
Despretis, and almost the whole of the Corps Diplo- 
matique. 

W, enjoyed it very much, did his manners very well, 
and never looked stiff or bored. I was delighted to see 
the familiar faces once more. I almost felt as if we had 
never been away. Madame de Noailles was astounded 
at the number of people I knew — I think she hadn't real- 
ized how long I had lived in Rome as a girl. She had 
heard W. say it was his first visit to Rome, and thought 
I, too, was here for the first time, and she was naturally 
surprised to hear me talking to Calabrini about the hunts, 
cotillons, his coach, and tempi passati generally. 



52 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

I have accepted so many invitations that I never can 
remember them, but the ladies promised to send a card. 
Aunt Mary Gracie was rather put out with me because I 
wore no necklace (which couldn't be said of the Roman 
ladies, who all wore splendid jewels), but I told her it 
was the last chic in Paris to wear your necklace on your 
bodice, not on your neck. 

We stayed on after all the beau monde had gone with 
Aunt Mary, Llooker, a Russian friend of Schuyler's, and 
Count Palfy, had a nice little supper, champagne and 
sandwiches, and talked over the party, saying of course 
(as they say we Kings always do) how pleasant our party 
was. W. was much interested in the various talks he 
had. He found Minghetti charming — so intelligent and 
well up in everything. Cairoli, too, he had been anxious 
to see; also Visconti Venosta. He was naturally (like all 
the men) charmed with Madame Minghetti. She must 
have been beautiful, and has an extraordinary charm of 
manner. The Cai rolls are a very big couple. He is tall 
and broad, fine eyes — she, too, on a large scale, but hand- 
some. Of course there were many inquiries from all the 
old friends for la maman and the family generally. Mrs. 
Bruce says she never drives in the Doria-Pamphili without 
thinking of you driving about in your plain black dress 
and bonnet, with two or three daughters (not quite so 
plainly dressed) in the carriage, and all always talking 
and laughing, and enjoying life together. I told her 
about Florence, where the King of Italy always bowed 
to you in the Cascine, evidently taking you for the supe- 
rior of some religious order (he must have thought the 
novices were lively), and the children in the street used 
to run up to you and kiss your hand. " He was quite 
right, to bow to you," she said, " my grand old Repub- 
lican." 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 53 

March 4, 1880. 
Yesterday we went again to the Vatican. W. is 
quite happy, I thought I should never get him away. It 
is most amusing to walk about old Rome with him, for 
suddenly over a gateway or at the bottom of an ordinary 
little <:ourt he discovers an inscription or a slab, or an old 
stone which he knows all about, and we stop. He reads, 
and recognises, and translates to me, and is wildly inter- 
ested. It is all so good for him, and puts politics and 
little annoyances out of his head. It is quite new for me 
to see Rome from a classical point de vue, but I suppose 
one enjoys things differently as one grows older. I cer- 
tainly enjoyed the mad gallops over the Campagna in the 
old days; do you remember Mrs. S. who was so severe 
with us — first because we were Americans (she was Eng- 
lish) and then because we knew everybody and enjoyed 
ourselves ? — " when she was young people came to Rome 
to educate themselves and enjoy the pictures, museums, 
historical associations, etc. Nozv one saw nothing but 
American girls racing over the Campagna Math a troop 
of Roman princes at their heels." Poor dear, she really 
thought it was a calamity not to be born under the British 
flag. I suppose that makes the great strength of the 
English, their absolute conviction that England is the 
only country in the world. 

They are funny, though — I was discussing something 
one day with Lady S.. and we didn't quite agree; upon 
which she remarked she supposed I couldn't understand 
her ideas — she came from a big country w'here one took 
broad views of things. I said I thought I did too, but 
perhaps it is a matter of appreciation — I think, though, 
I have got geography on my side. 

After breakfast we drove about paying visits. We 



54 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

found Princess Teano (who lias asked us to dine on 
Wednesday) and she showed us her boys — the eldest one 
a beauty. She looked very handsome with her pure 
Madonna face. She told us her beau-pere (the blind Duke 
of Sermoneta) had been so pleased to meet W. in Flor- 
ence. They had a long talk somewhere, and W. was so 
amused with the Duke's politics and liberalism — all so 
easy-going, half chaffing, but very decided too, no sound- 
ing phrases nor profession de foi ; simply accepting (what 
he couldn't really like very much) the inevitable, de bonne 
grace ; and seizing and ridiculing all the weak points. 

In France they are frightfully logical, must always 
argue and discuss everything — I think they are born de- 
baters. 

We left cards on various people, Princess Bandini, 
Cenci, Countess Lovatelli, and then went for a little turn 
out of the San Lorenzo gate, but not far, as we wanted to 
go to Princess Pallavicini, who received that afternoon. 
W. was much struck with the apartment — so many 
rooms, all very high ceilings, that we passed through be- 
fore getting to the boudoir where the Princess was sitting. 
It all looked so natural, I remembered the hangings — 
bright flowers on a light satin ground — as soon as I got 
into the room, and some of the pictures. She was very 
cordial and friendly, told W. how long she had known 
me, and recalled some of our rides at Frascati with her 
and Del Monte. She asked us to come on Friday even- 
ings, she was always at home. No one else was there but 
a Princesse de Thurn and Taxis (nee Hohenlohe) who 
w-as introduced to us, and the talk was pleasant enough. 
She was quite interested in our tw^o audiences — Pope and 
Quirinal — but we told her we had heard nothing from 
either court yet. W. walked home, and T went on to 
Gert as it was her reception day. She gave me a cup of 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 55 

tea, and I found various friends there, including Father 
Smith who was quite pleased to see me again. He 
doesn't look any older, and is apparently quite as energetic 
as ever. He told me he had enjoyed his talk with W. 
very much, and they had made a rendezvous for two days 
— the Catacombs and San Clemente. He remarked casu- 
ally that W. wasn't at all what he expected to find him ; 
not at all his idea of a " French Republican." I wonder 
what sort of trade-mark he expected to see? If he 
had pictured W. as a slight, nervous, black-eyed, voluble 
Frenchman, he must naturally have been surprised. 

We have heard people discussing us sometimes in Eng- 
lish as w^e pass down the long dining-room to our table — 
" There goes Waddington, the late French Premier." 
" Never — that man is an Englishman." " I have seen 
pictures of Waddington — he doesn't look at all like that, 
etc." The head waiter always points us out as distin- 
guished strangers. 

I found quantities of cards when I came home — one 
from Lily San Vito with a nice little message of welcome. 
(We crossed her in the Corso the other day and she 
looked lovely.) Also Valerys, Middletons, Pantaleones, 
etc. After I had gone to my room to dress W. had a visit 
from Desprez, the French Ambassador to the Vatican. 
He has just arrived, his wife not yet come, and he feels a 
little strange in this very divided society. We are going 
to meet him at dinner at the Portuguese Embassy. He 
told W. there would be several Cardinals at the dinner — 
a regular black assemblage. It will \? a funnv experience 
for W. 

March 6, 1880. 

I w'ill finish this long letter to night. We have just 
come in from the Teano dinner, which was pleasant. 
Teano looked quite the same (I hadn't seen him for 



56 ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

years) with his tall, slight figure and white lock. (I 
forgot to look if the boy had it.) She looked very hand- 
some. We had the Minghettis, a Polish Countess — 
sister-in-law of the Due de Sermoneta, the Calabrinis, 
and M, Heding, a German savant. Minghetti was de- 
lightful, telling us his early experiences with the old 
Pope, Pio None. He was killing over the entente between 
the government and the monks for the suppression of 
the monasteries. The gendarmes arrived, found barred 
doors and resistance. There was a sort of halt and parley 
— one father came out, then another — a little livret of the 
Caisse d'Epargne was put into their hands, and all went 
off as quietly as possible. Heding seemed to think things 
wouldn't go so easily in Germany, and they certainly 
wouldn't in France. 

Madame Minghetti and I talked for a long time after 
dinner exchanging our experiences of the official world, 
which I fancy is always the same in all countries. Cala- 
brini was of course his same courteous self — so absolutely 
free from pose of any kind — rather unusual in a man who 
has always had such a success. 

This morning we went to Trajan's Forum, walked, W. 
as usual quite at home, everywhere recognising old friends 
at every step. We looked at all manner of inscriptions 
and basso-rilievos, and enjoyed ourselves very much. 
This afternoon W. and Schuyler went ofif together to see 
some churches and the Palazzo dei Cesari. I backed out, 
as I can't stand two sight-seeings the same day with a 
dinner in prospect in the evening. I went over to get 
Gert, and we drove about together, winding up at the 
Comtesse Wimpffens. Austrian Ambassadress, who has 
a charming apartment in the Palazzo Chigi (where Odo 
Russell used to live when we were in Rome). There 
were various ladies there, the Marquise de Noailles, 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 57 

French Ambassadress (who immediately asked me 
who made my dress, the blue velvet that did all my visits 
the last year of the Ouai d'Orsay), Lady Paget, Madame 
Minghetti, and a sprinkling of secretaries and attaches, 
Comtesse d'Aulnay, looking very pretty, very well 
dressed, came in just as we were leaving. We wound up 
wath a turn in the Villa Borghese. There were grooms 
waiting at the gate with saddle horses, just as our old 
Carmine used to wait for us. It is all so curiously fa- 
miliar and yet changed. I can't get accustomed to the 
quantities of people in the streets where there never used 
to be any one — occasionally a priest, or a few beggars, or 
a water-carrier. Now there are soldiers, people carrying 
parcels, small employees, workmen, carts, carriages, life-in 
fact. There were quantities of people in the Villa Bor- 
ghese, Some of the carriages very well turned out, again 
very dififerent from our days when we knew every car- 
riage, and when a new equipage or a new face made a 
sensation. 

W. has had a delightful afternoon looking at some of 
the very old churches with Eugene. He had, too, a note 
from Desprez saying our audience from the Pope would 
be to-morrow at one o'clock, and giving me the necessary 
instructions for my veil, long black dress, etc. To-mor- 
row night we dine at the Noailles. The breakfast there 
the other day was pleasant — no one but ourselves and 
Ripalda. Of course it is a magnificent Embassy — the 
Farnese Palace — and they do it very well, but it w^ould 
take an army of servants to " garnish " these long ante- 
rooms and passages, in fact ordinary servants are quite 
lost there ; there ought to be Swiss guards or halberdiers 
with steel cuirasses and lances which would stand out 
splendidly from the old grey walls. One could quite 
imagine an Ambassador of Louis XIV arriving with 100 



58 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

gentlemen and armed retainers in his suite. The famous 
room with the Caracci frescoes must be beautiful at 
night. Ripalda asked us to come to tea one afternoon 
at his palace on the Tiber, the *' Farnesina." Marquise 
de Noailles was charming. 

Now I will say good-night, dear, for I am tired, and 
we have a busy day to-morrow. 1 wonder if Leo XIII. 
will impress me as much as Pio Nono did. 



To H. L. K. 

Rome, Hotel de Londres, 
Thursday, March 8, i88o. 

The Piazza is delightful this morning, dear mother; it 
is bright and warm, and there are lots of people start- 
ing for excursions with guide-books, white umbrellas, and 
every variety of wrap. The coachmen of the little botte 
look so smiling and interested, so anxious to make things 
easy and comfortable. Vera came to see us yesterday, 
and told me he was hailed by one of the coachmen from 
the top of his box, just as he was crossing the Piazza, who 
said to him : " Sai Maestro, una di quelle signorine King 
e tornata col marito? " (Do you know, master, one of 
those King young ladies has come back with her hus- 
band?) He was much amused — told him he was quite 
right, and that he was going to see that same sienorina. 
I dare say he had driven us often to one of the gates to 
meet the saddle horses. 

Yesterday was our udienza particolare (special audi- 
ence), and most interesting it was. Madame Hubert was 
madly excited dressing me. I wore my black satin, long, 
with the Spanish lace veil I had brought in case I should 
be received by his Holiness, and of course no gloves, 
though I had a pair with me and left them in the carriage. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 59 

We started at 12.30, as our audience was at one, and got 
there quickly enougli. I had forgotten all the queer little 
courts and turns at the back of the Vatican. Everything 
was ready for us ; we were received really in royal state 
— Swiss Guard, with their extraordinary striped yellow 
uniform (designed, some one told us the other day, by 
Michelangelo), tall footmen attired in red damask, 
Guardia Nobilc, chamberlains, and two monsignori. The 
garde noble de service was Felice Malatesta. He really 
seemed much pleased to see me again, and to make W.'s 
acquaintance — swore he would have known me at once, 
I was so little changed; but I rather suspect if he hadn't 
known we were coming he w^ouldn't have recognised me. 
We had a nice talk the few minutes we stood waiting in 
the room adjoining the one where the Pope received us, 
and he gave me news of all his family — Emilio (still un- 
married), Francesco, etc.; then a door was opened, a 
monsignore came out, bowed, and said his Holiness was 
ready to receive us. We went in at once, the monsignore 
closing the door behind us and leaving us alone with the 
Pope, who came almost to the door to receive us, so that 
the three regulation curtseys were impossible. There 
were three red and gold arm-chairs at one end of the 
room, with a thick, handsome carpet in front of them. 
The Pope sat on the one in the middle, put me on his 
right and W. on his left. He is a very striking figure; 
tall, slight, a fine intellectual brow and wonderfully bright 
eyes — absolutely unlike Pio Nono, the only Pope I had 
ever approached. He was most gracious, spoke to me 
always in Italian, said he knew I was an old Roman, and 
that we had lived many years in Rome ; spoke French to 
W., who, though he knows Italian fairly, prefers speak- 
ing French. He asked W. all sorts of questions about 
home politics and the attitude of the clergy, saying that 



6o ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

as a Protestant his opinion would be impartial (he was 
well up in French politics, and knew that there were three 
Protestants in W.'s ministry : himself, Leon Say, and 
Freycinet). W. was rather guarded at first (decidedly 
" banale," I told him afterward), but the Pope looked 
straight at him with his keen, bright eyes, saying: " Je 
vous en prie, M. Waddington, parlez sons reserves." 

We stayed about three-quarters of an hour, and the talk 
was most interesting. The Pope is very anxious to bring 
about a better state of feeling between the clergy and the 
people in France, and tries so hard to understand why the 
priests are so unpopular ; asked about the country curate, 
who baptizes the children and buries the old people — 
surely there must be a feeling of respect for him; said, 
too, that everywhere in town or country the priests do 
so much for the sick and poor. VV. told him the women 
all went to church and sent their children to the cate- 
chism, but the men are indifferent, if not hostile, and 
once the boys have made their first communion they 
never put their foot in a church. " What will keep them 
straight and make good men of them, if they grow up 
without any religious education? " The answer was diffi- 
cult — example and home teaching, when they get it. Evi- 
dently he had been curious to see W., and I think he was 
pleased. It was quite a picture to see the two men — the 
Pope dressed all in white, sitting very straight in his arm- 
chair with his two hands resting on the arms of the chair, 
his head a little bent forward, and listening attentively to 
every word that W. said. W. drew his chair a little for- 
ward, spoke very quietly, as he always does, and said all 
he wanted to say with just the same steady look in his 
blue eyes. 

From time to time the Pope turned to me and asked 
me (always in Italian) if politics interested me — he be- 




Pope Leo XIII. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 6i 

lieved all French women were keen politicians; also if I 
had found many old friends in Rome. I told him I w^as 
so pleased to see Felice Malatesta as we came in, and that 
we were going to meet Cardinal Howard one day at 
breakfast. I shouldn't think he took as much interest in 
the social life of Rome as Pio Nono did. They used 
always to say he knew everything about everybody, and 
that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a visit from 
Odo Russell, who used to tell him all sorts of " petites 
histoires " when their official business w^as over. 

He also talked a good deal to W. about his uncle, 
Evelyn Waddington, who lived in Perugia, where he was 
" sindaco " (ma3'Or) for years. He married an Italian 
lady, and was more than half Italian — curious for a man 
called Evelyn Waddington. The Pope had known him 
well when he was Bishop of Perugia. 

We both kissed his hand when we took leave, and he 
said again to W. how much he had been interested in all 
he told him. We lingered a few minutes in the anteroom, 
as there was some idea Cardinal Nina would receive us, 
but it had not been arranged. It seemed strange to be 
in those high, bare rooms again, and reminded me of our 
visit to Cardinal Antonelli years ago with father, when 
he showed us his collection of gems. I remember so w^ell 
his answer to Bessie Curtis (now Marquise de Talley- 
rand-Perigord), who was looking out of the window, and 
said it was such an enchanting view, would help one in 
" des moments de decouragement." " On n'est jamais 
decourage, mademoiselle." 

I imagine Leo XIII has very difficult moments some- 
times. 

W. wouldn't come out again as he had letters to write, 
so I stopped for Gert, and we had a lovely turn in the Villa 
Pamphili. Quantities of people — it looked very gay. 



62 ITALL\N LETTERS [March 

We got home about six, and had visits until it was time 
to dress for our dinner at the Wimpffens. D'Auhiay came 
first, very anxious to hear about our audience at the 
Vatican; and Taghani, the auditeur of the old " nonce "; 
also Dr. Nevin. 

Our dinner at the Wimpffens was very pleasant. Their 
apartment looks very handsome lighted. There was a 
fine, pompous old porter at the door downstairs, and 
plenty of servants and a " chasseur " upstairs. We had 
all the personnel of the Embassy, the Calabrinis, Bibra 
(Bavarian Minister), Van Loo (Belgian), and an 
Austrian whose name I didn't master, who had been a 
minister in Andrassy's Cabinet. After dinner we all ad- 
journed to the smoking-room, which is very large and 
comfortable, lots of low arm-chairs. The Austrian la- 
dies smoked, and I talked to Bibra and Van Loo, who 
told me all the diplomats had been rather struck with the 
cordiality of our reception — that in general the Romans 
troubled themselves very little about strangers. W. talked 
to Wimpffen and his Austrian friend, who was much 
interested in hearing about our audience with the Pope, 
and a little surprised that W. should have talked to him 
so freely, both of them saying that his being a Prot- 
estant made things much easier. 

The Romans went off early, so W. went to Geoffroy 
(director of the Ecole de Rome — French Archaeological 
Society), who receives Thursday evenings at the Farnese 
Palace. Lie has an apartment quite up at the top of the 
palace over the Noailles, and I went to Gert, who also 
received Thursday. I found a good many people there — 
principally Americans, and some young diplomats. So 
many people were introduced to me that I was quite ex- 
hausted, and went and sat down by Aunt Mary, who 
looked verv handsome. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 63 

Sunday, March 10, 1880. 

I shall not go out this morning. It is a little foggy — 
the first time since we came here — and I was also lazy. 
We are going so perpetually. Yesterday W. was off at 
nine in the morning with Geoffroy and Lanciani for 
a classic tournee. I wrote one or two letters, and then 
Madame Hubert and I walked over to Gert's and break- 
fasted. After breakfast Monsignor English came in and 
had much to say about the Pope, and the impression W. 
had made which he had heard from high personages of 
the Vatican. I told him all about the interview, and he 
was much surprised when I said we all sat down. W. 
came while he was still there, and of course he wanted to 
hear his account, and was so pleased with all W. said 
about the Pope, his marvellous intelligence and compre- 
hension of the present very difficult state of affairs in 
France. English also said the Pope had been pleased 
with me (I did nothing but listen) so I plucked up my 
courage, and asked him if he thought his Holiness would 
give me a photograph signed — I should like so much to 
have one. He said it would be difficult, as the Pope 

never signed a photo — but perhaps . I should like 

one so much — I hope he will make an exception for this 
heretic. 

W. and I walked home, and then I dressed, and we 
started again for some visits. We found Princess Ban- 
dini, who was most amiable — very pleased to make W.'s 
acquaintance, also rather curious about the Vatican visit. 
There were quantities of people there, principally diplo- 
mats and English. W. thought the apartment very hand- 
some. 

We tried to find Madame Calabrini, but she was not 
receiving. We dined at the Noailles. I wore my blue 



64 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

satin and all the diamonds I possess. The apartment 
looked very ambassadorial — the great gallery lighted, 
superb. The dinner was handsome — Wimpffens, Pagets, 
Uxkulls (Russian Ambassador, you will remember him 
in Florence the year we were there), Cairolis, Geoffroys, 
Schuylers, and various young men. Maffei, the Under- 
Secretary of State, took me in, and I had Cairoli on the 
other side. I didn't find him very easy to talk to. He 
doesn't speak French very well, so I changed into Italian 
(which I am gradually getting back) and then we got on 
better. I shouldn't think he was much of a ladies' man, 
and never a brilliant talker. Maffei is very clever and 
amusing. Gert sat just opposite, looking very well in 
yellow. 

During the dinner Maffei called my attention to the 
menu " Cotelettes a la Waddington," and asked me if 
W. was as much of an authority in cooks as he was in 
coins. I disclaimed any such knowledge for him, and 
was rather curious to see what the " cotelettes " would 
prove to be. They were a sort of chaud-froid, with a 
thick, white envelope, on which was a large W. in 
truffles. The whole table was rather amused, and Madame 
de Noailles gave us the explanation. Her chef had been 
some time with us at the Quai d'Orsay, and when he 
heard W. was coming to dinner was much excited, and 
anxious to do honour to his old master — so he consulted 
Madame de Noailles, and that was the result. I will keep 
the menu for you. 

After dinner we adjourned to the beautiful Carracci 
gallery, and there I was presented to various ladies — Ma- 
dame d'Uxkull (ci-devant Madame Gheka), very hand- 
some; and Madame Visconti Venosta, an attractive look- 
ing woman with charming manners. I had quite a talk 
with Lady Paget, who looks always very distinguished 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 6s 

with her beautiful figure. She told me Mrs. Edwards's 
baby had arrived — a little girl — to be called " Gay " after 
her daughter.* I hope she will grow up as pretty as her 
mother. I talked some time to Madame Cairoli who was 
very amiable and expansive, called me always " Madame 
la Comtesse " ; and offered me anything I wanted from 
cards for the Chamber to a presentation to the Queen. 

There was quite a reception in the e^'ening — not many 
of the Roman ladies. Marc Antonio Colonna came up — 
recalled himself, and introduced me to his wife — very 
pretty, with splendid jewels. She is the daughter of 
the Duke of Sant-Arpino, a very handsome man. Her 
mother, the Duchess, an English woman, also very hand- 
some, so she comes fairly by her beauty. I walked about 
the rooms with Wimpffen, and he showed me all the 
notabilities in the parliamentary world. Lady Paget 
asked us to go to her on Sunday afternoon, and I prom- 
ised Nevin we would go to his church, but we didn't. 

W. has just received an intimation that King Hum- 
bert will receive him to-morrow at one o'clock, and I 
have told Madame Hubert to get out his Italian decora- 
tions, as he always forgets to put them on, and it seems 
in all courts they attach much importance to these mat- 
ters. We are starting now for a drive ; first to the Villa 
Wolkonsky — I want to show it to W., and we shall prob- 
ably go in late to the British Embassy. 

Monday, March ii, 1880. 
The King gave W. his audience to-day at one. He 
went off most properly attired, zvith his Italian ribbon. 
He generally forgets to put on his orders, and was de- 
cidedly put out one day in Paris when he arrived at a 

* Now the Hon. Sylvia Edwards, Maid of Honour to Queen Alexandra. 



66 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

royal reception without the decoration the sovereign had 
just sent him. The explanation was difficult — he could 
hardly tell the King he had forgotten. W. got back again 
a little after two, and said the interview was pleasant 
enough — the King very gracious, and he supposed, for 
him, talkative; though there were long pauses in the con- 
versation — he leaning on his sword, with his hands 
crossed on the hilt as his father always did — spoke about 
the Queen, said she was in Rome, and he believed Madame 
Waddington had known her when she was Princess de 
Piedmont. I never was presented to her — saw her only 
from a distance at some of the balls. I remember her 
quite well at a ball at the Teanos in a blue dress, with 
her beautiful pearls. I hope she will receive us. He 
talked less politics than the Pope; said France and Italy, 
the two great Latin races, ought to be friends, and de- 
plored the extreme liberty of the press ; knew also that 
W. was in Rome for the first time, and hoped he would 
have fine weather. He did not ask him anything about 
his interview with the Pope. W. said the reception was 
quite simple — nothing like the state and show of the 
Vatican. There was a big porter at the door of the pal- 
ace, two or three servants on the stairs, and two officers, 
aides-de-camp, in the small salon opening into the King's 
cabinet. 

Soon after he came in we had visits — Hooker, Mon- 
signor English, a French priest, head of St. Louis des 
Franqais. and Del Monte, whom I hadn't yet seen. He 
was so nice and friendly — doesn't look really much older, 
though he says he feels so. I told him it seemed un- 
natural not to have a piano. He would have brought his 
cello, and we could have plunged into music and quite for- 
gotten how many years had passed since we first played 
and sang the " Stella Confidente." 




King Humbert of Italy. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 67 

After they had all gone we started out to the " Tre 
Fontane," taking Gert with us to see the estabhshment 
of the French Trappists who are trying to " assainir " 
the Campagna by planting eucalyptus trees. It is an in- 
teresting experiment, but rather a dangerous one, as sev- 
eral of the fathers have died. The summer here, with 
that deadly mist that rises from the Campagna, must be 
fatal, and the two monks we saw looked yellow and shriv- 
elled with fever. However, they will persevere, with 
that extraordinary tenacity and devotion of the Cath- 
olic priests when they undertake anything of that kind. 
I carried off a bottle of Elixir of Eucalpytus, for I am 
sorry to say these last bright days have given me an 
unpleasant souvenir in the shape of a cold chill every now 
and then between the shoulders, and evidently there is 
still truth in the Roman proverb " Cuore di donna, onde 
di mare, sole di Marzo, non ti fidare." (Don't trust a 
woman's heart, the waves of the sea, nor the March sun.) 

We got home about half-past six, had tea and more 
visits — Calabrini, Vitelleschi, and Princess Pallavicini, 
who was most animated, and talked politics hard with W. 
W^e dined at home and had a little talk, just as we were 
finishing dinner, with Menabrea, who was dining at a 
table next ours. They say he will go to the Paris Em- 
bassy in Cialdini's place. W. wouldn't go out again, so 
I went alone to Gert's, who had a few people — Mrs. Van 
Rensselaer, clever and original ; Countess Calice, an Amer- 
ican ; her husband, a cousin of the Malatestas ; Vera ; 
young Malatesta, a son of Francesco ; a Russian secretary, 
and one or two others. It was rather a pleasant evening. 
They had tea in the dining-room — everybody walked 
about, and the men smoked. 



68 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

Tuesday, March 13, 1880. 

Yesterday morning W. and I had a good outing, wan- 
dering about the Capitol. First we walked around Mar- 
cus Aurelius, then up the old worn stone steps to the Ara 
Coeli. I told W. how we used to go there always on 
Christmas Eve to see the Creche and the Bambino. It 
was very well done, and most effective. The stable, 
beasts, shepherds, and kings (one quite black with a fine 
crown). There were always children singing the " storia 
di Gesih" and babies in arms stretching out their hands 
to the lights. Yesterday the church was quite empty, as 
there is not much to attract the ordinary tourist. We 
made our way slowly, W. stopping every moment before 
an inscription, or a sarcophagus, or a fresco, to the room 
of the " Dying Gladiator," which he found magnificent — 
was not at all disappointed; afterward the faun — and 
then sauntered though all the rooms. I had forgotten the 
two skeletons in one of the sarcophagi — the woman's 
with rings on her fingers, most ghastly. 

After lunch Countess Wimpffen came in to know if 
I would drive with her to the Villa Borghese, and do two 
teas afterwards — Madame Cairoli and Madame Westen- 
berg (wife of the Dutch Minister, an American and a 
great friend of Gert's) ; but I couldn't arrange it, as W. 
wanted to come with me to the Affaires Etrangeres — so 
we agreed to go another day. I always liked both Wimpf- 
fens so much when they were in Paris that it is a great 
pleasure to find them here. Wimpffen likes to get hold 
of W. and talk about France and French politics. 

Our dinner at Mrs. Bruce's was very gay. I told her 
I didn't find her salon much prettier than in our days 
when we lived on the first floor of Ferret's house (she on 
the second), and she always said we made Pierret send 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 69 

up to her all the ugly furniture we wouldn't have. What 
we kept was so bad, that I think the " rebut " must have 
been something awful. We had the IMinghettis, Vitel- 
leschis, Wurts, Wilbrahams, Schuylers, and one or two 
stray Englishmen. Vitalleschi took me in, and I had 
Minghetti on the other side, so I was very well placed. 
It is killing to hear them talk politics — discussing all the 
most burning questions with a sort of easy persiflage and 
" esprit de conciliation " that would astound our " grands 
politiques " at home. Minghetti said the most absolutely 
liberal man he had ever known was Pio Nono — but what 
could he do, once he was Pope. 

It was really a charming dinner — Mrs. Bruce is an 
ideal hostess. She likes to hear the clever men discuss, 
and always manages to put them on their mettle. We 
all came away about the same time, and W. and I went 
on to the opera " Tor di None." Bibra had invited us to 
come to his box. The house was much less " elegante " 
than the Paris house — hardly any one in a low dress, no 
tiaras, and few jewels. The Royal box empty. Princess 
Bandini was in the next box with Del Monte and Trochi. 
The Minghettis opposite with the Wimpffens. The 
" salle " was badly lighted — one could hardly make the 
people out. 

W. had rather a shock — we had scarcely got in — 
(Bibra not yet come) when the door opened and in came 
Maurizio Cavaletti — enchanted to see me — seizing both 
my hands — " Maria mia adorata — cara regazza, etc.," 
utterly oblivious of " cara Maria's " husband, who stood 
stiff and cold (an icicle) in the background, with Anglo- 
Saxon written all over him; waiting for the exuberant 
demonstration to finish, and a presentation to be made. 
As soon as I could I presented Monsieur le Marquis in 
proper form, and explained that we were very old friends, 



70 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

had not met for years, etc.. but ^^\ hardly tha\yed all the 
eyening. 

When he went out of the box to pay a yisit to our 
neighbours I remonstrated yigorously with Maurizio, but 
he was so unfeignedly astonished at being taken to task 
for greeting a yery old friend warmly, that I didn't make 
much impression. The ballet was pretty, and of course 
there was an influx of young men as soon as it began — 
a handsome, rather stout '' ballerina '' being eyidently a 
fayourite. 

To-day we breakfasted with the Schuylers to meet 
Mrs. Bruce and Cardinal Howard — no one else. We had 
a pretty little breakfast, most liyely. I didn't find the 
Cardinal much changed, a little stouter perhaps. He was 
quite surprised at W.'s English ; knew of course that he 
had been educated at Rugby and Cambridge, and had the 
Chancellor's medal, but thought he would haye lost it a 
little haying liyed so many years in France, and haying 
made all his political career in French. I asked him if he 
was as particular as ever about his horses. He always 
had such splendid black horses when we liyed in Rome, 
but he said, rather sadly, that times were changed. W. 
and he talked a long time after breakfast. He was yery 
anxious to know whether all the religious orders were 
threatened in France or merely the Jesuits. Comte Palfy 
(Austrian) came in just as we were leaving. He is so 
attractive — a great friend of I'Oncle Alphonse — knows 
e\"crybody here and loves Rome. 

W. and I went off to the \^illa Albani — out of Porta 
Salara. W^e w^alked through the rooms — there are prin- 
cipally busts, statues, bas-reliefs, etc. — and then loitered 
about the gardens which are fine. Fountains, vases, and 
statues in every direction, and always that beautiful view 
of the hills in the soft afternoon light. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 71 

I will finish when I come home from our Black dinner. 
We are asked for seven, so of course will get back early, 
as we do not go anywhere afterward. I shall wear 
black, as I hear so many Princes of the church are to be 
there. Madame Hubert is very sorry I can't wear the 
long black veil that I did for the Pope — she found that 
most becoming. 

Tuesday, March 12, 1880, 10.30 p.m. 
We are just home from our dinner at the Portuguese 
Embassy, so I have got out of my gauds and into my tea- 
gown, and will finish this long letter. It was most in- 
teresting — a great deal of couleur locale. We arrived 
very punctually — three or four carriages driving up at 
the same time. There was of course a magnificent por- 
ter downstairs, and quantities of servants in handsome 
liveries ; a good deal of red and powder. Two giants at 
the foot of the staircase, with the enormous tall candles 
which are de rigueur at a Black embassy when car- 
dinals or ambassadors dine. They were just preparing 
to escort some swell up the staircase as we arrived ; there 
was a moment's halt, and the swell turned out to be M. 
Desprez, the new French Ambassador to the Vatican (re- 
placing the ]\Iarquis de Cabriac). He was half embar- 
rassed when he recognised us ; W. had so lately been his 
chef that he couldn't quite make up his mind to pass 
before him — especially under such novel and rather try- 
ing conditions. However, there was nothing to be done, 
and he started up the great staircase between the tall 
candles, W. and I followed modestly in his wake. We 
found several people, including two or three cardi- 
nals, already there. The apartment is very handsome. 
The Ambassador (Thomar) looked very well — " tres 
grand seigneur " — standing at the door of the first salon. 



72 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

and one saw quite a vista of large, brilliantly lighted 
rooms beyond. All the guests arrived very quickly 
— we had hardly time to exchange a word with any one. 
I saw the Sulmonas come in. I recognised her instantly, 
though I hadn't seen her for years. She was born Ap- 
ponyi, and they were married when we were living in 
Rome. Also Marc Antonio Colonna and the d'Aulnays. 
Almost immediately dinner was announced. Sulmona 
took me in and I had a cardinal (Portuguese) on the 
other side. I didn't say much to the cardinal at first. 
He talked to his neighbour, and Sulmona and I 
plunged, of course, into old Roman days. He was much 
amused at the composition of the dinner, and wondered 
if it would interest W. He asked me if I remembered 
the fancy ball at the Palazzo Borghese. He had still 
the album with all the photos, and remembered me per- 
fectly as " Folie " with short skirts, bells, mirror, etc. 
I remember it, of course, quite well. Some of the 
costumes were beautiful, particularly those copied from 
portraits. After a little while the cardinal turned his 
attention to me. He w^as a nice old man, speaking 
either French or Italian (both with a strong accent), and 
much interested in the guests. He asked me if I 
belonged to the corps diplomatique. I said no — we were 
merely strangers spending the winter in Rome. He 
thought there were a good many strangers at table — 
he didn't know half the people, not having been long in 
Rome ; but he knew that there was one man dining wdiom 
he had a great desire to see, Waddington, the late French 
Premier; perhaps I knew him, and could point him out. 
He had always followed his career with great interest, 
but there were some things he couldn't understand, " par 
exemple son attitude dans la question — " Then as I 
didn't know what he might be going to say, I interrupted, 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 73 

and said no one could point out that gentleman as well as 
I, as I was Madame Waddington. He looked a little un- 
comfortable, so I remarked, " II diavolo non e tanto nero 
quant e dipinto " (The devil is not so black as he is 
painted), to which he replied, "Eh, no punto diavolo" 
(no devil) — was rather amused, and asked me if I would 
introduce him to W. after dinner. We then, of course, 
talked a little about France, and how very difficult the 
religious question was. He asked me where I had 
learned Italian, so I told him how many years we had 
lived in Rome when my brother was the last Minister 
from the United States to the Vatican. Sulmona joined 
in the talk, and we rather amused ourselves. Sulmona, 
of course, knew everybody, and explained some of the 
people, including members of his own (Borghese) family, 
who were very Black and uncompromising. Still, as I 
told him, the younger generation is less narrow-minded, 
more modern. I don't think they mean to cut themselves 
off from all participation in the nation's history. After 
all, they are all Italians as well as Romans. The foreign 
marriages, too, make a difference. I don't think the sons 
of English and American mothers could settle down to 
that life of inaction and living on the past which the 
Black Party means in Rome. 

As soon as I could after dinner I got hold of W. 
(which was difficult, as he was decidedly surrounded) 
and introduced him to my cardinal, whose name I never 
got, and I went to recall myself to Princess Sulmona. 
We had a nice talk first about her people — her father. 
Count Apponyi, was Austrian Ambassador in Paris when 
Marshal MacMahon was President, and their salon was 
very brilliant, everybody going to them ; the official world 
and the Faubourg St. Germain meeting, but not mingling. 
Then we talked a little about Rome, and the future of 



74 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

the young generation just growing up. Of course it is 
awfully difficult for families like Borghese and Colonna 
who have been bound up in the old papal world, and given 
popes to Italy, to break away from the traditions of cen- 
turies and go in frankly for " Italia Unita." Do you 
remember what they used to tell us of Prince Massimo? 
When some inquisitive woman asked if they really called 
themselves Fabius iMaximus, he replied that it had been 
a family name for 1,400 years. 

The present Prince Massimo is one of the most zealous 
supporters of the Pope. The great doors of his gloomy 
old palace have never been opened since the King of Italy 
came to Rome. One can't help admiring such absolute 
conviction and loyalty ; but one wants more than that in 
these days of progress to keep a country alive. 

The evening wasn't long ; the cardinals never stay late, 
and every one went away at the same time. We again 
assisted at the ceremony of the big candles, as of course 
every cardinal and the Ambassador had to be conducted 
downstairs with the same form. It was altogether a very 
interesting evening and quite different from any dinner 
w^e had ever been at. I don't think the French cardinals 
ever dine out in France ; I don't remember ever meeting 
one. Of course the " nunzio " went everywhere and al- 
ways had the " pas " — but one looks upon him more as 
a diplomatist than a priest. 

W. enjoyed his evening very much. He is now set- 
tled in his arm-chair with his very disreputable pipe, and 
has been telling me his experiences. He found my old 
cardinal very intelligent, and very well up in French poli- 
tics, and life generally. He liked Sulmona, too, very 
much; made her acquaintance, but didn't have a chance 
to talk much to her, as so many people were introduced 
to him. There is certainly a great curiosity to see him — 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 75 

I wonder what people expected to find? He looks very- 
well, and is enjoying himself very much. I am so glad 
we did not stay in Paris; he would have had all sorts 
of small annoyances, and as it is, his friends write and 
want him to come back. He is quite conscious of the 
sort of feeling there is about him. First his appearance 
— a great many people refuse to believe that he is a 
Frenchman ; he certainly is not at all the usual French 
type, with his fair hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders; 
and when they realize that it is he the cautious, doubtful 
way in which the clericals begin a conversation with 
him, as if they expected red-hot anarchist declarations to 
fall from his lips, is most amusing. Cardinal Howard 
always seeks him out for a talk — but then he doesn't 
mince matters — goes straight to the subject he wants to 
discuss, and told him the other day he couldn't under- 
stand how a man of his English habits and education 
should ever have dropped (he didn't say degenerated, but 
I think he thought it) into a French republican govern- 
ment. 

W. is very pleased to see the cordial way in which 
everybody meets me, and I must say I am rather touched 
by it myself. I have never had a moment's disappoint- 
ment, and I was a little afraid, coming back in such 
changed circumstances after so many years. Everybody 
asks after you, and some one the other day — Countess 
Malatesta, I think — asked if you still wore in Paris your 
plain black dress and bonnet. I suppose she thought that 
even you couldn't have resisted the Paris modiste. It 
would seem strange to see you in a hat and feathers. 

Good-night, dearest ; W.'s pipe is out, and we are going 
to bed. 



76 ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

Hotel de Londres, 

March 14, 1880. 

Cannons are firing, drums beating, flags flying in all 
directions to-day, dear mother. It is King Humbert's 
birthday and there is to be a great revue on the Piazza 
deir Indipendenza. We are invited to go and see it by 
Turkam Pacha, Turkish Minister, who has an apartment 
on the Piazza ; but as he told us that we should meet 
Ismail Pacha (the ex- Khedive) we thought we had bet- 
ter remain at home. I hardly think it would be a pleas- 
ure to Ismail to meet the man who was one of the chief 
instruments in his downfall. My sympathies were rather 
with the Khedive — I never quite understood why France 
and England should have politely but forcibly insisted 
upon his leaving his throne and country — but whenever 
I raised the question I had always that inert force the 
" raison d'etat " opposed to me. We crossed him the 
other day driving. The carriage full of red-fezzed men 
attracted my attention, and our Giuseppe told us who 
they were. He looked very fat and smiling, evidently 
was not ronge by his disasters. Turkam suggested 
that I should come alone, but that of course I could not 
do. 

Mrs. Bailey, who has also an apartment on the Piazza, 
has asked us to come to her, but I think I shall stay 
quietly at home and look out of the window. I see lots 
of officers and functionaries, in uniform, passing in fiacres 
and riding, and a general migration of the whole city 
including the beggars and flower girls of the Spanish 
Steps toward the Piazza. W. says he will smoke his 
cigar walking about in the crowd, and will see very well. 

I was interrupted by a message from Gert begging me 
to come to her at once. Her maid was in such an ex- 




Queen Margherita of Italy. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 77 

traordinary state of violence she thought she was crazy 
— and as Eugene was away for a day or two she was 
really afraid. I questioned the little footman who brought 
the note but he was very non-committal. W. was already 
off to see the review and I left him a note explaining 
where I was and asking him if I didn't get back to 
breakfast to come and get me at Gert's. I then started 
of¥ with the little footman who had a fiacre waiting. 
As I entered the court of the Palazzo Altemps a glimpse 
of a white, frightened face at the window told me what 
Gert's state was. Poor dear, she was terribly upset, 
and Eugene's being away is a complication. Her two 
men-servants are very devoted, but they evidently feel 
uncomfortable. She asked me if I would go with her 
and see the woman. We found her sitting in a chair 
in Gert's dressing-room looking certainly most unpleas- 
ant, sullen, and an ugly look in her eyes. She is a great 
big Southern woman (French), could throw Gert out of 
the window if she wanted to. Gert spoke to her very 
gently, saying I had come to see her as I had heard she 
was not well. Sh.e didn't answer nor move but gave 
Gert a nasty look — she evidently has got something 
against her. I looked at her very steadily — said we were 
very sorry she was suffering, which was most evident, 
and that the best thing for her would be to rest, attempt 
no service of any kind and go to her own room — that we 
had sent for Dr. Valery who would certainly be able to 
relieve her. She didn't answer at first, and looked as if 
she would like to spring upon us both, then burst into 
screams of abuse — " She would go to her room of course 
— would leave the house at once and never come back, 
etc." I told her I should certainly advise Mrs. Schuy- 
ler to send her away — that evidently the climate did not 
suit her, and she would be happier in France. She didn't 



78 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

answer, relapsed into her sullen silence, and almost imme- 
diately Valery appeared. He insisted very quietly that 
she should go to her own room (at the other end of the 
apartment), and she went off with him, giving an ugly 
look at Gert as she passed. It seems she already had had 
such an attack, less violent, when they were at Birming- 
ham. l)ut once it was over went on cjuite peaceably and 
didn't seem to realize how ill she had been. Valery came 
back to tell us the result of his examination — said she had 
already calmed down and was anxious to beg her mis- 
tress's pardon, but that she was of a nervous, dangerous 
temperament, and at any moment might have a relapse. 
Of course she must go, but it is very uncomfortable. I 
took Gert out for a drive. W. sent me a line to say he 
was busy all the afternoon and would not come unless I 
wanted him. I think the air and distraction did her 
good. The streets had a decidedly festive appearance. 
There were a good many flags everywhere, and soldiers 
still passing on their way back to their various barracks. 
\Ve were kept some time in the Corso seeing a battalion 
of " bersaglieri " pass. They had good music and looked 
very spirited as they moved along with all their feathers 
flying. They were rather small, but well set up, and 
marched in beautiful time with a light, quick step. We 
saw some cavalry too, but I didn't care so much for them. 
I thought the men looked too tall for the horses — their 
legs too near the ground. 

We went to Nazzari's for tea, and the man was so 
smiling and pleased to see me that I asked him if he knew 
me — " Ma si, certamente, la Signorina King " — had seen 
me various times in the Piazza or driving, and hoped I 
would come in some day for tea. I went upstairs with 
Gert when I took her home, and left every possible in- 
struction with the maitre d'hotel to look after her, and 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 79 

above all to look after Louise, and not let her leave her 
room. The cook's wife will help her dress, as the poor 
thing has a dinner. 

We have dined quietly at home. W. was tired, hav- 
ing been out all day. There is a reception at the French 
Embassy, but we shan't go. I told W. about the maid 
and the exciting morning we had had. He said of course 
the woman must go at once — that she had evidently a 
grudge of some kind against Gert, and might do her some 
injury. He had had rather a pleasant day. He walked 
about in the crowd seeing everything very well. He was 
rather favourably impressed with the Italian soldiers — 
said they were small as a rule, but light and active — 
marched very well. The King looked well, and was very 
well received. He thought him a striking figure on 
horseback in uniform, that curious type of all the Savoy 
Princes. They don't look modern at all, but as if they 
belonged to another century. I don't know exactly what 
it is — one sees the same sort of face so often in old 
Spanish and Italian portraits. 

He had breakfasted alone, as I was over with Gert, and 
then started off with Monsignor English to meet Father 
Smith at the Catacombs, where they had a long delight- 
ful afternoon. He says Father Smith is a charming 
guide, knows and loves every corner of the Catacombs. 
His brogue, too, is attractive, sounds so out of place in 
that atmosphere of Latin and old-world tombs and in- 
scriptions. He also told me what pleased me very much, 
that the Pope will give me his photograph, signed. 
Monsignor English told him to tell me, and he will come 
and see us to-morrow. Among our cards was one from 
the Cardinal Di Pietro — Doyen of the College of Car- 
dinals — coming first to see W. What w^ould the Proto- 
cole say ? 



8o ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

March i6, 1880. 
Schuyler has got back, and the maid is a lamb, but is 
going all the same. The doctor and the other servants 
advise it strongly, and I am sure Gert will find a nice 
Italian maid here to replace her. W. and I have done a 
fair amount of sight-seeing these days, and yesterday he 
paid a long visit to Cardinal Nina — Secretary of Foreign 
Affairs for the Vatican. He found him reasonable and 
interesting. I tell him he is getting quite a " papalino " — 
he finds the Cardinals so pleasant. He came and got me 
after his visit and we went off to the Chambre des Depu- 
tes. Visconti Venosta was going to make a great speech 
attacking the Ministry on their foreign policy, and they 
thought there would be a lively seance. We were in the 
Diplomatic box — all the Ambassadors were there, and 
he had just got up to speak as we got there. They 
don't speak from the tribune, as in France. Every man 
speaks from his own place — and as he had his back to us 
we didn't hear very well. He spoke very easily, and 
was very well listened to. Occasionally there would be 
a sort of growl of disapproval, but on the whole the 
house was much quieter than ours. Cairoli looked quite 
composed when Visconti was pitching into him, smiling 
even when he remarked he didn't understand the Italian 
character, nor how to use the great powers his position 
gave him, etc. Various people came up and spoke to 
me, among others Countess Celleri, who seems to be tak- 
ing up politics now. She has grown a little older, but is 
very handsome still, and was evidently a great attraction 
to all the young diplomatists w^ho were in the box. W. 
admired her appearance and manner very much. We 
stayed there till 5.30 hoping that Cairoli would answer, 
but he didn't^ the discussion rather trailed on, so we went 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 8i 

for a turn in the Villa Borghese to get a little air be- 
fore our dinner at the British Embassy. It was very 
crowded, all the swells driving — King, Queen, and 
Khedive all in separate carriages. The King in a small 
victoria with one aide-de-camp — the Queen in her big 
landau with one lady and the red royal liveries; the 
Khedive in an ordinary carriage, but conspicuous, as he 
and his gentlemen all wore the red fez. 

Our Paget dinner was pleasant. They have got a 
big villa in the Venti Settembre out toward Porta Pia. 
There is a large garden with fine trees, and the entrance 
and staircase are handsome. We were 36 — Italians 
chiefly — but a few Diplomatists. I knew almost every 
one, Calabrinis, Minghettis, Somaglias (you will remem- 
ber her name, she was Gwendoline Doria, and married 
when we lived in Rome), Serristori, Castagneta and some 
Deputies and gentlemen of the Palace who, of course, 
were strangers to me. The dining-room is large with a 
quite round table which must be very difficult to cover, 
there were such spaces. I think there must have been 
hundreds of roses on the table. The Marquis de Villa- 
marina, head of the Queen's household, took me in, and 
I had Uxkull on the other side, Lady Paget next to him. 
We all talked together, and I complimented Lady Paget 
on the quickness of the service. It was always one of 
our preoccupations at the Quai d'Orsay to get through 
these long official dinners as soon as possible. W. took 
in Madame Visconti Venosta, and they seemed to be get- 
ting on swimmingly. After dinner I talked some time 
to Countess Somaglia, and asked to be introduced to the 
Marquise Villamarina. She told me the Queen would 
certainly receive us, but couldn't quite fix the day yet as 
she had many official rendezvous these days. When the 
men came in from smoking I had a few words with Cala- 



82 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

brini, and one or two Deputies were presented, Sella, 
Lanza, etc., but I really only talked to Sir Augustus 
Paget. He said they were going to have a small ball 
after Easter, and hoped we should still be here. I hope we 
shall, I should like to see the ball-room — they say all the 
decoration, painting, llowers. cupids, etc.. has been done 
by Lady Paget herself. The party broke up early, no one 
stays late at dinner. There is always a reception some- 
where to which everybody goes. 

We came home as I get tired at night. We begin our 
day early, and are never in the house. This morning 
Gert and I went out shopping in the Piazza della Minerva 
and Campo IMarzo — it was most amusing. We got two 
dresses for her — one of that coarse Roman linen, and a 
very pretty Roman silk from Bianchi, the same man who 
existed in our days. He looked most smiling and evi- 
dently recognised the familiar faces, though he could not 
put a name to them. We got the linen in a funny little 
old shop, low, and as dark as pitch. I never should have 
dreamed of going there for anything, but some one told 
us it was tJic place for linen, and we found at once what 
we wanted. I bought two Roman sashes — one for Alice 
and a ribbon for Nounou. We pottered about for some 
time looking at the bits of old brocade and embroidery, 
some pieces stretched out on the pavement with a stone 
at each end to hold them down. There were two pieces 
of old rose brocade which looked very tempting, but when 
I took them up I saw there were thin places in the silk, 
and spots — so 1 resisted these " occasions." The woman 
was amusing, tried to make us buy, but knew quite well 
her silk was not first-rate. She evidently attached no 
importance to the spots (e vecchia), but allowed that the 
frayed bits were not encouraging. 

This afternoon we have been again to the Chambre 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 83 

des Deputes — Cairoli was speaking. He has a good 
voice, we heard him mncli better than Visconti Venosta. 
/ didn't find his speech very interesting. There were all 
sorts of details and references to despatches and blue 
books which were Greek to me, but of course W. liked 
it and knew the question thoroughly so he said he would 
stay and I had much better go and get some fresh air. 
The heat was something awful and the box full, so I 
took myself ofif. One of the Austrian secretaries came 
down with me to look for the carriage and I started for 
a solitary turn in the Villa Borghese. I hadn't gone very 
far when I met Comtesse Wimpffen alone in her carriage. 
We drew up for a little talk, and she proposed I should 
send my carriage away and come into hers, which I was 
delighted to do. We went for a little walk, and met 
various friends — Marchesa Theoduli * looking lovely. 
She was very amusing over the divided state of soci- 
ety — says she is not allowed to bow to the Queen, and 
as they meet almost every day driving and neither of 
them can pass inapercue it is rather awkward. Mrs. 
Lorillard Spencer came up too, she was walking with 
her daughter, Princess Vicovaro, whose husband was 
" le beau Cenci " of our days. It was delicious loung- 
ing about on the grass under the trees, after the heat 
of the Chamber. We stopped at Nazzari's for tea, met 
Bibra at the door and invited him to come with us — 
also Cornelie Zuylen,f who had seen us from the street 
and rushed in to have a little talk. She is in Rome for 
a few days — sight-seeing hard. We had tea and very 
good cakes — and I was glad to have a few minutes before 
dressing for the Calabrini dinner. 

We started off again at 8, and had really a very pleas- 

• N^e Lily Conrad. 

t Now Madame Scheidecker. 



84 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

ant evening at Calabrini's. Their house is not large — 
they can't dine easily more than lo people. I was the 
only lady — the men were Vitelleschi, Sella (their rising 
political man) whom W. was delighted to see, a Ruspoli 
whom I had never seen before, a brother of the late 
Prince; and Alphonso Doria who looks like a tall Eng- 
lish boy. Stella is clever enough, decidedly un homme 
serieux, and Calabrini was much pleased to have him 
for my homme serieux. He told us all sorts of stories 
about " Italia Unita " and Cavour, and his profound dis- 
trust of Louis Napoleon ; how, until the very last mo- 
ment when the French troops were really at the gates, 
he was afraid they wouldn't come. We stayed fairly 
late, as the talk was interesting. I don't think there is 
much real sympathy between the French and Italians. 
They are very unlike though they are of the same race. 
The Italians seem very excitable when they talk fast and 
gesticulate and their eyes flash, but au fond they are 
calmer than our people — as least the upper classes ; I 
don't know about the bas peuple. They say knives play 
a part in their discussions. Certainly in France there 
are always rows when the Italian workmen arrive. 
They are generally terrassiers and come in bands when 
railroads or bridges are being made. One recognises 
them at once with their black eyes, white teeth, red 
sashes and slouched hats. There is usually a coup de 
couteau before the season ends. They work well enough, 
are light and active, but always stop to talk — don't 
keep up a sort of desultory talk over their work as our 
men do. 

March i8, 1880. 

Last night we went to the Wimpffens' grand official 
" ricevimento." All the street in front of the house was 
crowded just as it used to be in the old days — people 




Queen Marglierita and King Humbert. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 85 

coming close up to the carriages (going of course at a 
foot's pace) and peering in to see the diamonds. There 
was nothing hke the display of carriages, diamonds, and 
liveries there used to be — many fiacres, and many uni- 
forms. Countess Wimpffen looked very well in white 
satin, pearls, and diamond tiara, Wimpffen of course in 
uniform and his broad ribbon, Cenci (now Prince de 
Vicovaro) attached to the Court, was standing at one side 
of the Ambassadress presenting all the Court people. 
The Princess, his wife, stood near by looking very well, 
beautifully dressed, with diamonds and large pearl pen- 
dants. She was wearing for the first time her decora- 
tion of dame de palais. All the " White " Roman ladies 
were there. I saw quantities of people whom I knew. 
W. also begins to know the people. He thought the 
Roman women very distinguished looking, and the jewels 
splendid, particularly the pearls. We stayed quite late, 
and decidedly amused ourselves. I was rather interested 
in seeing when Madame de Wimpffen shook hands 
and when she merely bowed. When W. was at the For- 
eign Office and we had big receptions I was puzzled 
sometimes. My impulse was not to shake hands with 
the men. W. and Richard thought I ought to shake 
hands with all the Deputies, but that seemed a great 
undertaking and would, I think, have surprised them, 
as Frenchmen as a rule are formal, don't shake hands 
usually with ladies, but make rather a stiff bow, so 
I compromised by shaking hands only with those I 
knew. 

This afternoon W. and I went out together. We left 
several cards and wound up in the Villa Borghese, where 
we walked about for some time. It was lovely under the 
cypress trees, long dark avenues with a fountain at one 
end — large vases — bits of half-ruined gateways, columns, 



86 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

and unexpectedly a sort of rond or opening with foun- 
tains, statues, big stones, all in a heap, and then long 
stretches of lawn with anemones, violets, and a pretty 
little yellow flower I didn't know, all perfectly neglected 
and growing wild, but with a wonderful charm. Such 
a contrast when we emerged again into the regular prom- 
enade and the gay modern life of Rome of to-day. There 
were quantities of carriages, three or four four-in-hands 
with women in light dresses on the tops of the coaches ; 
men, principally officers, riding (in uniform, which al- 
ways makes a gay note), lots of victorias and open car- 
riages. The Prince of Naples (with the Royal red liv- 
eries) driving with one gentleman. He was dressed in 
sailor dress, looked smiling and interested, and bowed all 
the time. Three or four carriages filled with pretty girls 
— English or American — looking hard at everything, and 
always bands of black-robed students, seminarists from 
the various colleges which abound in Rome. It is a cu- 
rious motley crowd — I don't think one would see it any- 
where else. The clerical element is always well to the 
fore, and in spite of the changes the Monarchy estab- 
lished, with all the train of courtiers, deputies, soldiers, 
and endless functionaries that it brings, one feels that it 
is the great centre of Catholicism, and that the long arm 
of the Church still retains her hold on her children scat- 
tered all over the world. 

I will finish now as we have come home fairly early 
from the Pallavicini reception. We dined at home and 
started off about lo. We went to get Gert, and on ar- 
riving about 10.30 found ourselves almost the first peo- 
ple. Felice Malatesta was there, also Del Monte. Both 
being " Gardes-Nobles " they can only come early and 
not run the risk of meeting any of the Court people nor 
diplomatists to the Quirinal. Princess Pallavicini is one 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 87 

of the Queen's ladies, but she is such an old friend of 
both gentlemen that they always go to her. Among the 
first arrivals was Massari. He and W. and Prince 
Pallavicini had a nice talk, and it amused me to see the 
people come in. There were about 30 (I knew a good 
many of the Romans, but of course the Court people and 
Deputies were strangers to me), Wimpffens, Noailles, St. 
Asilea, Somaglias, and a sprinkling of young diploma- 
tists. As soon as the White diplomatists began to appear 
del Monte and Malatesta departed. I had a talk with 
Villamarina who is very musical, also with Vitelleschi. 
The party broke up early — there was no music nor dan- 
cing (not even the little informal " tour de valse " there 
used to be in our days) and we w^ere home before 12 
o'clock. W. enjoyed his evening — talked principally to 
the men. 

Saturday, March 20, 1880. 
W. is off this morning with Father Smith to San 
Clemente. I was lazy as I was out all day yesterday. 
In the morning W. and I walked to the Palazzo dei 
Cesari, and stayed there two hours walking about and 
sitting down in the nice sunny places. It was beauti- 
fully bright, a splendid blue sky, but cold, a sharp wind, 
very unusual they say for the end of March. One gets 
a very fair walk on the Palatine Hill. There is so much 
to see, and the little irregular paths running up and down 
from the various temples and ruined buildings of all 
kinds give one plenty of exercise. It needs a good deal of 
imagination to reconstruct all the temples, tribunes, por- 
ticoes, and palaces which existed in the days of Imperial 
Rome, but there are still bits of coloured marble, faded 
frescoes, mosaics, tops of columns and broken statues in 
every direction, W. was quite happy — he had already 



88 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

spent a morning there with Lanciani, and so could show 
me what was still well enough preserved for me to under- 
stand. The view from the terrace over Rome and the 
Campagna was beautiful — the mountains seemed so near. 
We didn't walk home as we found a botta which had 
just brought up a party of forestieri — French this time, 
with a young priest, who was evidently the guide. 

Sunday, March 21, 1880. 
We went to the American church this morning as 
Nevin was so anxious we should see it. There is no 
very interesting French church — a sort of Vaudois chapel 
— so we preferred the Capella Americana. It is a pretty 
little church, very full — I should think a good many 
English as well as Americans — very good singing and 
a good sermon, not too long. We had visitors after 
lunch, and about 4 started for a drive out to Ponte 
Nomentano. We got out and walked about the Cam- 
pagna for some time. The view was divine — Frascati 
and Rocca di Papa on one side, Tivoli on the other. W. 
thought the old bridge most picturesque. He recognised 
it instantly from the aquarelle that is in the dining-room 
at home. As it was Sunday all the country people were 
out; carts filled with women and children, boys on don- 
keys, sitting well back, almost on the tails of the animals, 
and all the little courts in front of the various osterias 
quite full. There were not exactly costumes, but there 
was a general impression of colour. The men had bright 
coloured sashes and shirts — the women nearly all red and 
blue skirts striped, and a coloured handkerchief on their 
heads — almost all with long gold ear-rings (some of the 
men too had ear-rings — large gold hoops) and a string 
of coloured beads around their necks. Everybody talk- 
ing, laughing, and enjoying themselves. We stopped at 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 89 

the British Embassy for tea. Lady Paget receives al- 
ways Sunday afternoon. There were various carriages 
at the door, and the villa looked pretty. The tea-table 
was on a broad palier at the head of the stairs. It was 
very well arranged with screens '" cassoni," plants, arm- 
chairs — very original and attractive. I went in first to the 
drawing-room and had a talk with Lady Paget, then ad- 
journed to the palier with Princess Sciarra and Coun- 
tess VVimpffen, and we had a very pleasant hour. It was 
amusing to see all the people coming up the broad stair- 
case. There were of course a great many I didn't know, 
as besides all the Court set and political people there were 
many English, all arriving for Holy Week. Mrs. Bruce, 
Madame Visconti Venosta, Gert, Marquise Chigi came 
and joined us. I was quite horrified when I found how 
late it was. We had just time to dress and go and dine 
with the Geoffreys at the Palazzo Farnese. The evening 
was very pleasant; decidedly archeological and scientific, 
but the men were all clever and talked so well that they 
would have made any subject interesting. We had Vis- 
conti, de Rossi, Lanciani, and some of the young men of 
the Ecole Frangaise. They all love Rome and know 
every stone. W. was quite in his element, talked a great 
deal himself, and was much interested in their excavations 
and all the curious things they are finding all the time. 
I meant to leave early and go to Gert who had a few 
people at dinner, but it was eleven o'clock before any 
one moved, and we went quietly home. 

Good Friday, March 26, 1880. 
I was too tired to-day to do anything, as yesterday we 
were out all day. W. and I walked about in the morn- 
ing, going into all sorts of churches whenever we saw 
one open. There were always people, and in the smaller 



go ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

churches they looked devout and absorbed, but the crowd 
of strangers in the large, better known basilicas took 
away any religious feeling. It all seemed a great show, 
which is practically what Holy Week is in Rome. They 
say they have not had so many foreigners in years. Last 
night the " gerant " begged us not to come downstairs 
until 8 o'clock, or even a quarter past, as they needed all 
the small tables for the table-d'hote. It was not so very 
crowded this morning as we breakfast at 12.30, much 
earlier than the foreigners, who are usually English and 
come in for luncheon at 1.30. 

Yesterday afternoon we went to St. Peter's and found 
ourselves in a long file of carriages going the same way ; 
also all kinds of pedestrians, priests, nuns, soldiers, ar- 
tists, Cook's tourists, etc. AV. was rather horrified at the 
crowd in the church, and the regular " bousculade " at the 
big doors. There was to be very good singing at one of 
the small chapels, but it w^as already so full that we 
couldn't get in, though we had cards from one of the 
Monsignori. We tried to make our way in but it was 
utterly impossible, and then stood outside, thinking we 
might hear; but the people all talked so much that we 
heard nothing except every now and then a few notes in 
that curious, high, unnatural voice of the Papal Choir. 
Two young German priests, with keen intelligent faces, 
were so put out — begged the people near not to talk — • 
"in zehn Minuten ist alles voriiber " (in ten minutes 
it will be all over). All Rome was walking about 
the church, talking and looking about as if they were 
in a great hall of some kind — a crowd of strangers 
pushing, jostling, and trying to get up to the High Altar, 
or the statue of St. Peter where all the faithful were kiss- 
ing the toe. It was certainly not solemn nor edifying, 
except when we came upon a quiet corner, with some old 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 91 

chapel filled with tombs of dead Romans, Popes or 
Princes, who had played a great part in their day. That 
took us back into the past, and we could realize that we 
were really in St. Peter's. I tried to show W. the part 
that was shut off for the great Ecumenical Council 
under Pio Nono, but I couldn't remember exactly. We 
shall come back another day with Father Smith who will 
know all about it. I did find the Stuart monument with 
the busts of Charles Edward and Cardinal York. Peo- 
ple kept pouring into the church, but it is so enormous 
that, except at certain places, it was quite easy to circu- 
late. All the women (except a few stray tourists) were 
in black, and every now and then one saw a long file of 
seminaristes, also in black, but with a coloured sash to 
mark their nationality. I think the Americans wear blue 
— the French are quite black — no colour. We talked to 
quantities of people — it was like an enormous reception. 
1 was very tired when we finally came out, as of course 
we were walking and standing about all the time. There 
is no aisle with regular seats as in most churches — 
merely a few prie-Dieu inside the side chapels. The 
drive home was lovely — we went at a walk almost all the 
time, there were so many carriages. 

I went out after all this afternoon with W. and Mon- 
signor English to St. John Lateran, where they were 
singing a Miserere of Cappoci's. It is most strange, 
weird music, and the voices of the men are so unlike any- 
thing one hears elsewhere. There was always the same 
crowd. I will say Cook does his business thoroughly — 
wherever there is anything to see or hear he pilots all 
his band. After the Miserere was over we stood some 
time at the foot of the Scala Santa. It was black with 
people going up on their knees, saying a prayer at each 
step (I think there are 30) and some of them did look 



gi ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

serious and absorbed. They were principally peasants — 
every now and then some well-dressed bourgeois. Mon- 
signor English told us we would be surprised at the class 
of people (society) who come early, before the great 
crowd of sight-seers. 

We went back to the Palazzo Altemps, picking up Count 
Palfy on the way, where Gert had promised us tea and 
hot cross buns from Spillman's (very good they were). 

\Ve found a note from the Quirinal when we came 
home saying the Queen would receive us to-morrow at 
2.30. Desprez came and sat some time. He told W. all 
that was going on in Paris — the Ministry as usual strug- 
gling against the Radicals who are always wanting to 
suppress the French Embassy at the Vatican. It doesn't 
make the position of the Ambassador very pleasant, but 
Desprez is very wise, has had long training at the Foreign 
Office, and will certainly do all he can to conciliate and 
keep things straight. 



To H. L. K. 

Saturday, March 27, 1880. 
It was raining this morning, and I was very glad. 
The dust was getting most disagreeable in one's eyes and 
throat, and covering everything. I am glad, too, that it 
is cool, decidedly, as I wanted to wear my blue velvet. 
If it had been a bright warm day it would have looked 
dark and heavy. It is four o'clock — we have just come 
in from our audience, and I will write at once while the 
impression is fresh. W. has a " rendezvous " with some 
of the French Institute people, and I shall not see him 
again until dinner time. We got to the palace (a great 
ugly yellow building, standing high) quickly enough, as 



i88o] OF A DIPLOAIAT'S WIFE 93 

there was no one in the streets at that hour, and drove 
into the court-yard to a handsome entrance and staircase. 
There were a few soldiers about, but not much move- 
ment. A carriage came in behind us, and just as we were 
going upstairs some one called my name. It was Bessie 
Brancaccio, * who had also an audience with the Queen. 
She had come to thank her for her appointment as dame 
de palais. I was glad to have just that glimpse of her, as 
they are not in Rome this winter. Their beautiful house 
is not ready for them, so they have been spending the 
winter in Nice. We walked through a large anteroom 
where there were three or four servants and an " ecuyer," 
and in the first salon we were received by the Comtesse 
, Marcello, one of the Queen's ladies, a Venetian and a 
great friend of Mary's, and the gentleman-in-waiting, 
whose name I didn't master. We talked for a few minutes 
— she said a lady was with the Queen. The room was 
handsome, prettily furnished and opened into another — 
three or four, in fact, all communicating. After about ten 
minutes we saw a lady come out of the end room, the 
door of which was open, so Comtesse Marcello ushered 
us through the suite. We went to the corner room, 
quite at the end, where the Queen was waiting stand- 
ing. We went through the usual ceremony. The Com- 
tesse JMarcello made a low curtsey on the threshold, 
saying, " I have the honour to present his Excellency, M. 
Waddington and Madame Waddington," and instantly 
retired. The Queen was standing quite at the end of the 
room (a lovely, bright corner room, with lots of windows 
and a magnificent view over Rome — even on a dull day 
it looked cheerful and spacious). I had ample time for 
my three curtseys. She let us come quite close up to 
her, and then shook hands with us both and made us sit 

* Princess Brancaccio, born Field. 



94 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

down — I next to her on the sofa, W. in an arm-chair in 
front. I found her rather changed since I had seen her. 
She has lost the girhsh appearance she had so long, and 
her manner was nervous, particularly at first. When she 
began to talk and was interested and animated she was 
more like what I remembered her as Princess Marguerite. 
She was dressed in bronze satin, with a flowered brocade 
" casaque," and one string of splendid pearls. She told W. 
she was very pleased to see him, remembered that I had 
lived in Rome before my marriage, and asked if I still 
sang, Vera had talked so much about the music in 
Casa Pierret, and the trios we used to sing there with 
Lovatelli and Malatesta. The talk was most easy, about 
everything, generally in French, but occasionally break- 
ing into English, which she speaks quite well. W. was 
delighted with her — found her most interesting and " tres 
instruite " — not at all the banal talk one expects to have 
with sovereigns — in fact, I quite forgot we were having 
a royal audience. It was a very pleasant visit to a charm- 
ing woman, in a pretty room with all sorts of beautiful 
pictures and " bibelots " atout. While we were still 
there the Prince of Naples * came in. We both got up ; 
she told him to shake hands with W. and to kiss me, and 
to ask me how old my little boy was, which he did quite 
simply and naturally. He told his mother he was going 
to ride. I asked him if he had a nice pony, to which he 
replied in English, " Oh, yes, jolly," and asked if my 
little boy rode. I said not yet ; he was only two years 
old. The child looked intelligent, but delicate. They 
say his mother makes him work too much, is so ambitious 
for him ; and he has rather that look. The Princes of 
Savoy have always been soldiers rather than scholars, but 
I suppose one could combine the two. The Queen also 

* The present King. 




Queen Margherita and the Prince of Naples (Present King of 
Italy) in j88o. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOAIAT'S WIFE 95 

spoke about the Bunsens, and "little Beatrice";* said 
she was very fond of Mary. I was very sorry when the 
audience was over and she dismissed me, saying she had 
people waiting. 

We found Bessie and one or two other ladies in the 
first salon when we came out, waiting their turn. Com- 
tesse Marcello was delighted with all \V. said about the 
Queen. He was very enthusiastic, for him, as he is not 
generally gushing. I told her she had remembered that 
I had lived some years in Rome as Mary King, and she 
said : " Oh, yes, she remembered you and all your 
family perfectly, and knew that you had married M. 
Waddington." 

Tuesday, March 30, 1880. 

It is much pleasanter to-day — quite Spring-like, and 
the Piazza is full of people. I have drawn my little writ- 
ing table close up to the window, and I am afraid my cor- 
respondence will suffer, as there is always so much to see. 
Almost all the little botte have departed, in fact W., 
who has just started off with Visconti for the Vatican to 
look at the coins, took the last one. Cook's two big 
omnibuses have also just started for Tivoli — crammed. 
Some of the people dashed into Nazzari's, and reappeared 
with little paper bags, filled evidently with goodies. 

Yesterday W. and I breakfasted again at the Noailles', 
and they took us over the palace (Farnese) which is quite 
splendid, such enormous rooms and high ceilings. The 
great gallery with the famous Carracci frescoes looked 
beautiful in the daylight, and we saw them much better. 
The colours are still quite wonderful, hardly faded, some 
of the figures so graceful and life-like. Madame de 
Noailles' bed-room and dressing-room are huge. The 

* Now Mrs. Charles Loftus Townshend, of Castle Townshend, Ireland. 



96 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

enormous bedstead hardly took up any room at all. She 
said it took her some little time to accustom herself to 
such very spacious apartments, she almost had the im- 
pression of sleeping in the streets. 

We went for a drive afterward out of Porta Maggiore 
to look at the Baker's tomb — do you remember it, a great 
square tomb with rows of little cells? We wandered 
about on foot for some time, looked at the bits that remain 
of the old Roman road, and then drove out some distance 
toward the arches of the Claudian Viaduct. It is the road 
we shall take when we go to Tivoli. It was not quite 
clear, so the hills hadn't the beautiful colour they have 
when the sun is on them — but the grey atmosphere seems 
to suit the Campagiia. which is after all a long stretch of 
barren, desolate country broken at intervals by the long 
lines of aqueducts — every now and then a square tower 
standing out straight and solitary against the sky, and 
hardly visible until one comes close upon it, and a few 
shepherds' huts, sometimes with a thatched roof, some- 
times what remains of an old tomb, with a dried-up old 
woman apparently as old as the tomb spinning in the 
doorway. We met very few vehicles of any description. 

We dined at the Palazzo della Consulta where Cairoli, 
Foreign Minister. li\es. There were not many women — 
]\Iadame de Noailles, Gert, Madame de Sant' Onofrio 
(wife of one of Cairoli's secretaries), and quantities of 
men. They divided the honours — Cairoli took in Madame 
de Noailles — Madame Cairoli. W. The Prefet of Rome, 
Gravina, took me and put me on Cairoli's left. We all 
talked Italian, and I rather enjoyed myself. I told Gra- 
vina how much I preferred " Roma com' era," that the 
new buildings and the boulevards and the bustle and the 
quantities of people had spoiled the dear, dead, old Rome 
of our days — to which he replied '' but you, iMadame, are 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 97 

an American born, you surely can't be against progress." 
Oh, no, I like progress in my own country, but certainly 
not here. Rome was never intended to be modern and 
go-ahead — it didn't go with the monuments and the 
ruins and the traditions of old Rome. However he an- 
sw'ered me quite seriously that not only every country, 
but every individual, must " marcher," or else they would 
" deperir." Cairoli joined in the conversation, others too. 
and there was rather an interesting discussion as to how 
much could be left to sentiment, association of the past, 
etc., when an old historic city was being transformed into 
a busy, modern, political centre. 

After dinner Madame Cairoli came and sat down by 
me, and was pleasant enough. She looked handsome — 
very wide awake — still continues to call me Madame la 
Comtesse, so I have given up correcting her. She is well 
up on all subjects, particularly art, music, pictures, etc. 
She was rather amusing over the state of society and all 
the great Roman ladies whom she didn't know (there is 
such a division between the Government people and the 
old Romans) but said she had a very pleasant entourage 
with all the diplomatists and the distinguished strangers 
(with a little bow to me) and really didn't notice the 
absence of the grandes dames. She asked me about 
my audience with the Queen — had we been able to talk 
to her at all. She had been so tired lately and nervous 
that any attempt at conversation was an effort. I told 
her that on the contrary she talked a great deal, and that 
I didn't find her changed. 

Maffei came up and talked — asked me if I really liked 
Rome better as it used to be — I must surely prefer life 
to stagnation. He speaks English well, and likes to 
speak. They tell me that all the present generation of 
Romans speak English perfectly — much better than 



98 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

French. There was a small reception after dinner, some 
of the young diplomatists and political men. We came 
away early — 10.30, and plunged into our Paris letters, of 
which we found quantities, 

Friday, April 2, 1880. 

It is raining quite hard this morning, so I will write 
and not go out until after breakfast. Yesterday was 
beautiful, and we had a charming day at the races. I 
drove out with Madame de Wimpffen in her victoria — W. 
and Wimpffen together. I wore my brown cloth with 
the coat trimmed with gold braid and a great bunch of 
yellow roses on my hat, but I was sorry I hadn't sent for 
something lighter, as almost all the women were in white. 
I had thought of having two dresses sent by the " valise " 
(I hadn't time to have them sent by ordinary express), 
I consulted Noailles, who was very amiable, and said he 
would do what he could, but that the rules were very 
strict now for the '' valise," as there had been such abuse. 
I rather protested, so he remarked with a twinkle in his 
eye that I had better speak to my husband, as he was the 
Minister who had insisted on a reform being made — ^he 
added that it was Princess Lise Troubetzkoi who made 
the final scandal — that wdien St. Vallier was French Am- 
bassador to Berlin she was always sending things to 
Petersburg, via Berlin, by the " valise." Wlien the " petit 
paquet " she had spoken of turned out to be a grand piano 
there was a row, and W., who was then Foreign Minister, 
decreed that henceforth no " paquets " of any kind that 
w^ere not on oflficial business could be sent by the " valise." 
I suppose a pink tulle ball dress would hardly come under 
that head. 

The Queen was there looking very well and bright, 
dressed in light grey with a big black hat — very becoming. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 99 

There were a great many pretty women. We came away 
before the end and drew up a httle distance from the gate 
where a long string of carriages was waiting to see the 
Queen pass. The cortege was simple — first two dragoons, 
then a " piqueur " and her carriage with four horses, 
postillion and two servants behind in the scarlet liveries. 
The Countess Marcello was seated alongside of the Queen 
— two gentlemen (I couldn't make out who they were) 
facing her; a second carriage with two horses with two 
gentlemen in it followed, all very well turned out. The 
scarlet liveries make a great effect, one sees them from 
such a distance. The crowd was very respectful — not 
particularly enthusiastic. The Queen bowed right and 
left very prettily. I talked to lots of people at the races — 
among others to Madame Alphonse Rothschild who is 
here for a few days, and to Mesdames Somaglia, Rignano, 
Celleri, etc. I walked about a little with Sant' Asilea, but 
it was not easy to move — most of the ladies stayed quietly 
in the tribunes. We stopped at Nazzari's coming back 
and W. treated us all to tea — then we sent our carriage 
away as we wanted it at night for the Teano ball, and we 
walked about in the Corso, looking at all the turn-outs. 
The Teano four-in-hand was very handsome, and there 
were one or two others we couldn't make out which were 
very well turned out — some of the victorias, too, very 
smart, with handsome stepping horses. The Corso was 
full of people waiting to see the " retour " — it looked so 
gay. About eleven we went off to the Teano ball, which 
was most brilliant — all the societe there. Again I was 
sorry I hadn't sent for another dress as my red satin 
looked heavy and wintry. Princess Teano in white, with a 
diamond tiara, looked charming. Of course all the young 
generation who were dancing were strangers to me. but 
I met many old friends. I had quite a talk with Doria 



.01 



lOO ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

who wanted to be introduced to W. whom he had not 
yet seen. We stayed until 1.30, and when we came away 
they were just beginning the cotillon. In the old days 
we used to arrive at the balls about 12.30 or i o'clock just 
so as to have one waltz before the cotillon which was 
usually the best of the evening, as all the serious people 
had gone, and the mammas were at supper fortifying 
themselves for the long hours before them, so the ball- 
room was comparatively empty and one could get a good 
turn. 

Saturday, April 3, 1880. 

It is a beautiful morning, so was yesterday, an ideal 
Roman day — the sky so blue and just a soft little air that 
makes the awnings over the shops opposite flap lazily and 
indisposes one to any exertion. We walked about a little 
before breakfast, inspected the Fountain of Trevi where 
Neptune sits in state, looking at the rush of water falling 
over the rocks and splashing into the great marble basin. 
The water is beautifully clear, and sparkled and glistened 
in the sunlight. There were a good many people about — 
girls with pitchers on their heads, old men and women 
with pails and cans, all after water. The Trevi water is 
considered the best in Rome and is in great demand. We 
loitered about in the small narrow streets that branch off 
in every direction, always seeing something interesting. 
I think we lost our way as we found ourselves down by 
Trajan's Column and Forum, but we managed to get back 
to the Piazza di Spagna in good time for breakfast. 

We started again in the afternoon for tea at the Farne- 
sina Palace with the Duke di Ripalda. We stopped at 
the Farnese Palace to pick up Madame de Noailles, who 
was coming too, and we had a charming afternoon. 
Ripalda took us all over the Palace, and W. was delighted 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE loi 

with the frescoes, particularly Sodoma's. The garden 
was lovely, though they have cut off a great piece for their 
quays and works along the river. They are enlarging 
the Tiber, making great walls, etc. The City of Rome 
gave Ripalda a large sum of money, but he is much dis- 
gusted as it had taken a good bit off his garden. More 
people came in — the wife of the Peruvian Minister, a 
very pretty woman, and one or two men. We had tea 
in the long gallery with all Raphael's and Carracci's beau- 
tiful gods and cupids over our heads. Plow many dif- 
ferent scenes they must have looked dowil on — not always 
so peaceful as this quiet party. 

Saturday evening, April 3, 1880, 10 p.m. 

We went to the German Embassy on our way home to 
write ourselves down for the German Crown Princess, 
who had just arrived there for a short stay. I hope I 
shall see her — W. admires her so much. He saw her 
often when he was in Berlin for the Congress, and found 
her most sympathetic and charming. Turkam Bey came 
in just before dinner and had a great deal to say about 
the Khedive, and what France w^ould have done if he had 
resisted, retired up the country, and obliged the French 
and English to depose him by force. It was evident that 
the suite had been talking to him, and talking very big — 
he was very anxious to have a categorical answer. W. 
said very quietly they had never considered that emer- 
gency, as it was quite evident from the beginning that 
the Khedive had no intention of resisting. " Cependant, 
monsieur, s'il avait voulu," etc., so W. could only repeat 
the same thing — that they had never been anxious on that 
point. 

We dined quietly at home, and in the course of the 
evening there came a note from Keudell, the German 



loa ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

Ambassador (whom we don't either of us know), saying 
that " par ordre de Son Altesse Imperiale la Princesse 
Hereditaire d'Allemagne " he had the honour to ask M. 
and Madame Waddington to dine to-day at 7.30 at the 
Embassy '" en petit comite." We should find a small party 
— the Wimpffens and Pagets. The Princess only arrived 
on Thursday, and W. is much pleased that she should 
have thought of us at once. Keudell has been ill with 
gout ever since we have been here. W'e have never once 
seen him, but various people told W. he regretted so much 
not seeing him, that the other day we tried to find him, 
but the porter said he was still in his room. 

Sunday, April 4, 1880. 
Our dinner was charftiing. I was not a bit disap- 
pointed in the Princess. W. had talked so much about 
her that I had rather made up my mind I should find her 
very formal and German — and she isn't either one or the 
other. We left a little after seven (I wearing black satin). 
I am so bored with always wearing the same dresses. If 
I had had any idea we should go out every night I should 
have brought much more, but W. spoke of " a nice quiet 
month in Rome, sight-seeing and resting." We were the 
first to arrive. Keudell was at the door, introduced him- 
self, and took us into the large salon, where Madame Keu- 
dell was waiting. She looked slight and rather delicate, 
and he really ill, so very white. He said he had had a 
long, sharp attack of gout — had not been out for some 
time, and was in the salon for the first time the day the 
Princess arrived. While we were waiting for the others 
to come he showed us the rooms and pictures. I recog- 
nised at once one of those pretty child's heads by Otto 
Brandt like the one we have. He was much interested in 
knowing that we had bought one so long ago, he thought 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 103 

Brandt had so much talent. There was a grand piano, 
of course, as he is a fine musician. The Pagets and 
Wimpffens came together ahnost, and as soon as they 
were there the Princess came in. She had one lady with 
her and a " chambellan " — Count Seckendorff. She was 
dressed in black, with a handsome string of pearls. She 
is short, and rather stout, carries herself very w^ell and 
moves gracefully. We all made low^ curtseys — the men 
kissed her hand. Sir Augustus Paget just touching the 
floor with his knee, the first time I had seen a man kneel 
to any one in a salon. She received W. most charmingly, 
and w^as very gracious to me — asked me at once why I 
didn't accompany my husband to Berlin. I said, " Prin- 
cipally because he didn't want me," which was perfectly 
true. He said when he w^as named Plenipotentiary that 
it was all new ground to him, that he w^ould have plenty 
to do, and didn't w^ant to have a woman to look after. 
He rather protests now, but that is really what he said, 
and I certainly didn't go. The dinner was pleasant 
enough. The Princess talked a great deal, and as the 
party w^as small, general conversation was quite easy. 
The talk w^as all in French, wdiich really was very amiable 
for us — w'e w^ere the only foreigners present, and naturally 
if we hadn't been there every one would have spoken 
German. After dinner she made a short " cercle," stand- 
ing in the middle of the room, all of us around her, then 
made a sign to W. to come and talk to her, sat down on 
the big sofa, he on a chair next, and they talked for about 
half an hour. We all remained standing. I asked 
Keudell about his piano. He told me that he liked the 
Erard grand very much, but that they didn't stand trav- 
elling well. In a few moments the Princess told us all 
to sit down, particularly Keudell, who looked quite w^hite 
and exhausted. I sat by Madame Keudell, and as she is 



I04 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

very fond of Italy, and Rome in ijarticular, we got on 
very well. When the Princess had finished her talk with 
W. she came over and sat down by me — was most charm- 
ing and easy. She has the Queen's beautiful smile, and 
such an expressive face. We spoke English ; she asked 
me if I had become very French (I wonder?) — that she 
had always heard American women were so adaptable, 
taking at once their husband's nationality when they mar- 
ried foreigners. She had always remained very fond of 
England and English ways — the etiquette and formality 
of the German Court had tried her at first. She asked 
me, of course, how many children I had — said one was 
not enough, " If anything should happen to him, what 
would your life be?" and then spoke a great deal about 
the son she lost last summer by diphtheria, said he was 
the most promising of all her children, and she sometimes 
thought she never could be resigned. I said that her life 
was necessarily so full, she had so many obligations of 
all kinds, had so many to think about, that she would be 
taken out of herself. " Ah, yes, there is much to do, 
and one can't sit down with one's sorrow, but the mother 
who has lost her child carries a heavy heart all her life." 
It was all so simply said — so womanly. She said she 
was very glad to meet W. again, thought he looked very 
well — was sure the change and rest were doing him good. 
She regretted his departure from the Quai d'Orsay and 
public life generally. I told her he was still a Senator, 
and always interested in politics. I didn't think a few 
months' absence at this time would affect his political 
career much, and that he found so much to interest him 
that he really didn't miss the busy, agitated life he had 
been leading for so long. She said she intended to spend 
a quiet fortnight here as a tourist, seeing all she could. 
She then talked to all the other ladies, and about ten said 




Victoria, Crown Princess of Germanv. 



i8So] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 105 

she was tired and would go to her own rooms. She shook 
hands with the ladies, the men kissed her hand, and when 
she got to the door she turned and made a very pretty 
curtsey to us all. We stayed on about a quarter of an 
hour. 

The Wimpffens have arranged a dinner for her on 
Thursday (to which she said she would like to have us 
invited), just the same party with the addition of the 
Minghettis. As we were going on to Madame Minghetti's 
reception, Countess Wimpffen asked us to tell them to 
keep themselves disengaged for Thursday, as she wanted 
them for dinner to meet the Princess — she would write, 
of course, but sent the message to gain time. They 
brought in tea and orangeade, and I talked a little to 
Count Seckendorff — he speaks English as well as I do. 
He told me the Princess was quite pleased when she heard 
W. was here, and hoped to see him often. We hadn't 
the courage to stay any longer — poor Keudell looked 
ready to drop — and started off to the Minghettis*. 

It was a beautiful, bright night, and the Capitol and all 
its surroundings looked gigantic, Marcus Aurelius on his 
big bronz horse standing out splendidly. We found a 
large party at Madame Minghetti's — principally political 
— not many women, but I should think every man in 
Rome. Alfieri, Visconti Venosta, Massari, Bonghi, Sella, 
Teano, etc. It was evidently a " centre " for the intelli- 
gent, serious men of all parties. There was quite a buzz, 
almost a noise, of talking as we came in — rather curious, 
every one seemed to be talking hard, almost like a meeting 
of some kind. They were all talking about the English 
elections, which apparently are going dead against the 
Ministry. Minghetti said it was quite their own fault — a 
cabinet that couldn't control the elections was not fit to 
live. Of course their time was over — there was no use in 



io6 ITALIAN LETTERS [Afru. 

even attempting a fight — they had quite lost their hold on 
the country. ]\Iadame Minghetti seems as keen about pol- 
itics as her husband. She has many friends in England. 
I told her about the W'imptlen dinner — they will go, of 
course. She asked a great deal about the Princess — said 
she was very glad she had decided to come to Rome, that 
she couldn't help being interested and distracted here. 
which she needed, as she was so upset by her son's death. 
We talked music — she sings very well — and we agreed 
to sing together some afternoon, perhaps at the German 
Embassy, as Keudell is a beautiful musician and loves to 
accompany. 

Mrs. Bruce was there and I sat down by her a little 
while, looking at the people. She pointed out various 
political swells, and a nice young Englishman (whose 
name I didn't catch) joined us. saying he wished he un- 
derstood Italian, as it was evident the group of men 
around Minghetti was discussing English politics, and he 
would so like to know what they were saying. Mrs. 
Bruce told him it was just as well he didn't understand, 
as, from the echoes that came to her, she didn't believe it 
was altogether complimentary to John Bull. I don't be- 
lieve political men of any nationality ever approve any 
ministry. It seems to me that as soon as a man becomes 
a cabinet minister, or prominent in any way. he is in- 
stantly attacked on all sides. 

We didn't stay very long, as we had promised to go 
for a few moments to the Farnese Palace, where the 
Noailles had also a reception. I had some difficulty in 
extracting ^^^ from the group of men. He naturally was 
much interested in all the talk, and as almost all the men 
were, or had been ministers, their criticisms were most 
lively. They appealed to him every now and then, he 
having been so lately in the fray himself, and he was a 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 107 

funny contrast with his quiet voice and manner to the 
animated group of ItaHans, all talking at once, and as 
much with their hands as with their tongues. 

It was very late — after eleven — but we thought we 
would try for the Noailles, and there w'ere still many car- 
riages at the door when we dr(j\e up. We met so many 
people coming away, on the stairs and in the long ante- 
room, that it didn't seem possible there could be any one 
left, but the rooms were quite full still. The palace 
looked regal — all lighted — and there were enough people 
to take away the bare look that the rooms usually have. 
They are very large, very high, and scarcely any furni- 
ture (being only used for big receptions), so unless there 
are a great many people there is a look of emptiness, which 
would be difficult to prevent. Madame de Noailles was 
no longer at the door, but I found her seated in the end 
room with a little group of ladies, all smoking cigarettes, 
and we had an agreeable half hour. Madame Visconti 
Venosta was there, and another lady who was presented to 
me — Madame Pannissera, wife of one of the " grand- 
maitres de ceremonie " at court. W. was at once ab- 
sorbed into the circle of men, also talking politics, English 
elections, etc., but he was ready to come away when I 
made the move. Noailles insisted upon taking me to the 
buffet, though I told him I had done nothing but eat and 
drink since 7.30 (with a little conversation thrown in). 
It was rather amusing walking through the rooms and 
seeing all the people, but at 12.30 I struck. I really w-as 
incapable of another remark of any kind. 

I will finish this very long letter to-day. I wonder if 
you will ever have patience to read it. I am sure I 
shouldn't if it w^ere written to me. I hope I shall remem- 
ber all the things I want to tell when we get back — so 
much that one can't write. My black satin was right — 



I08 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

the Princess was in mourning, the other ladies equally in 
black. W. wants me to be photographed in the black 
dress and long veil I wore at the Pope's audience. He 
found it very becoming, and thinks Francis ought to have 
one ; but it is so difficult to find time for anything. 

Saturday, April lo, 1880. 

We had a nice musical evening the other night at 
Gert's. All the vieille garde turned up, Vera, Mala- 
testa, del Monte (with his violoncello), and Grant. We 
sang all the evening, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. 
I was sorry Edith Peruzzi couldn't come, as she sings so 
well, and it would have been nice to have another lady. 
She has been nursing her mother, who has been ill (so ill 
that they sent for Edith to come from Florence), but she 
is getting all right now, and I don't think Edith will stay 
much longer. Charles de Bunsen has arrived for a few 
days. We took for him a room at our hotel, and we have 
been doing all manner of sight-seeing. Thursday morn- 
ing we went to the Accademia of San Luca, where we had 
not yet been. It was rather interesting, but there is much 
less to see than in the other galleries. There are some 
good busts and modern pictures — a pretty Greuze. 

Our dinner at the Wimpffens' was very pleasant. We 
arrived very punctually at 7.20 and found the Keudells 
already there. He told us the Princess was very tired, 
she had been all day in the galleries standing, looking at 
pictures, and he didn't think she would stay late. He 
still looked very tired and pale, but said he was much 
better and that the royal visit did not tire him at all. The 
Princess was very considerate and went about quite sim- 
ply with her lady and Count Seckendorff. The other 
guests arrived almost immediately — the Pagets, Min- 
ghettis, Gosselins of the British Embassy, and Maffei, 



o ^ 




i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 109 

Under-Secretary of the Foreign Office. About a quarter 
to eight the Princess arrived with her lady and chamber- 
lain, she was dressed in black, with a long string of 
pearls. We went at once to dinner (which was announced 
as she entered the room), Wimpffen of course taking the 
Princess, who had Minghetti on her other side. Sir 
Augustus Paget took me, and I had Gosselin on the other 
side. W. sat next Countess Wimpffen. The talk was easy 
and animated, quite like the other day at the Palazzo Caf- 
farelli (German Embassy). The Princess talked a great 
deal to Minghetti, principally art, old Rome, pictures, etc. 
— she herself draws and paints very well. After dinner 
she sat down at once (said she didn't usually mind stand- 
ing, but the long days in the galleries tried her), made us 
all sit down, and for about half an hour she was most 
charming, talking about all sorts of things, and keeping 
the conversation general. When she had had enough of 
female conversation she said something in a low tone 
to Lady Paget, who got up, crossed the room to where 
W. was standing, and told him the Princess wished to 
speak to him. He came at once, of course — she made 
him sit down, and they talked for a long time. She 
is naturally a Protestant, but very liberal, and quite 
open to new ideas. She was much interested in French 
Protestants — had always heard they were \'ery strict, 
very narrow-minded, in fact, rather Calvinistic. She 
kept W. until she went away, early — about ten — as she 
was tired. She has an extraordinary charm of manner. 
Her way of taking leave of us was so pretty and gracious. 
She dines quietly at the British Embassy to-morrow 
night, and when Lady Paget asked her who she would 
have, said : " Cardinal Howard and Mr. Story." She 
wants to see all manner of men. 

Yesterday we made our first excursion to Frascati, and 



no ITALIAN LETTERS [Airil 

most unpleasant it was. We had chosen our day so as to 
have Charles Bunsen with us, and one also when we had 
nothing in the evening, as one is so tired after being out 
all day. We started about 9 — in the carriage — W. and 
I, Gert and Charles. It looked grey (was perfectly 
mild) and rather threatening, but the hotel man and 
coachman assured us we should have no rain — merely a 
covered day which would be more agreeable than the 
bright sun. Schuyler promised to come out by train for 
breakfast. The drive out was delicious, out of the Porta 
San Giovanni, the whole road lined with tombs, arches, 
ruined villas, always the aqueducts on one side, and the 
blue hills directly in front of us. The sun came out oc- 
casionally through little bits of white clouds, and the 
Campagna looked enchanting, almost alive. We passed 
close to the Osteria del Pino — w^iere the meet used to be 
often in old hunting days. It was so familiar as we 
drove up the steep hill and recognised all the well-known 
places — the Pallavicini villa at the side of the road, half- 
w^ay up the hill ; the Torlonia gardens, and the gateway 
of the funny little town. We w^ent straight to the hotel, 
the same one as in our day, Albergo di Londra (that 
shows what a haunt of " forestieri " it is), ordered break- 
fast, and then sallied out for a walk. 

The little piazza before the hotel was filled with don- 
keys and boys, all clamouring to us to have a ride, ex- 
patiating on the merits of their beasts, and making a per- 
fect uproar. We explained to the porter that we wanted 
beasts of some description to go up to Tusculum, and he 
said he would arrange it for us. However, the boys 
pursued us to the gate, dragging their donkeys after them. 
We went first to the Palazzo Marconi, which is just out- 
side the gates opposite the Torlonia villa. I wanted so 
much to see the old house again, it was inhabited by a 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE iii 

Russian family, and at first there seemed some little diffi- 
culty about getting in, but W. sent in his card, and after 
a little parley a servant appeared and took us all over the 
house, except the dining-room where the family were 
breakfasting. It looks exactly the same — only much 
more neglected and uninhabited. The broken steps 
were more broken, the bright paint more faded, and 
the look of discomfort much accentuated. I showed 
W. the room where father died. It looked much more 
bare and empty, but the pink walls were still there, and 
the door open giving on the terrace. How it brought 
back those long, hot nights when we tried to hope — 
knowing quite well there was no chance — but never dar- 
ing to put the fear into words. W. was much struck by 
the lonely, desolate look of the whole place. The little 
salon which we had made so comfortable with tables, 
rugs, and arm-chairs brought from Rome, looked per- 
fectly bare — no furniture except one or two red velvet 
benches close to the wall, and rather an ugly marble table 
with nothing on it. The big round salon with its colos- 
sal statues in their marble niches and the marble benches, 
was exactly the same — only no piano. We went through 
the bed-rooms at the other end (our three), the marble 
bath still in the middle one, which used to be Henrietta's, 
but there was no trace of occupation, neither beds, wash- 
ing apparatus, tables, nor chairs. I suppose the " loca- 
taires " live in the two rooms at the other end. There 
wasn't much furniture there, but I did see some beds. 
We went out into the little raised garden behind the big 
statue, but it was a wild waste of straggling vines and 
weeds. It was rather sad — nothing changed and yet so 
different. 

I explained our life to W. — our morning or evening 
rides, our music, which was enchanting in the big salon 



112 ITALIAN LETTERS [aprh. 

— so mysterious, just a little glow of light around the 
piano and other instruments, and the rest of the great 
room almost dark, the white statues looking so huge and 
grim in the half light. I was rather nervous the first 
nights out here when 1 had to cross that room to go to 
mine with a very small Roman lamp in my hand — but I 
soon got accustomed to my surroundings, and it seemed 
quite natural to live our daily, modern life in that mi- 
lieu of frescoes, marble statues, hanging gardens, and 
strangers. I tried to find someJittle flower in the mass of 
weeds in the garden, but there wasn't one, so I send these 
periwinkles and anemones picked in the Villa Torlonia, 
where we walked about for some time under the splendid 
old ilex trees. 

Breakfast, a fairly good one, was ready when we got 
back to the hotel, but no Schuyler. I think he was a 
wise man and foresaw what was going to happen. Quite 
a number of strangers had come out by train — all Eng- 
lish and American, no one we knew — and the table-d'hote 
was quite full. As soon as the gentlemen had had their 
cofifee, about 1.30, we started for Tusculum, Gert and I 
on donkeys with two pretty, chattering Italian boys at 
their heads — Bunsen on a stout little mountain pony, and 
W. on foot. He wouldn't hear of a donkey, and pre- 
ferred to walk with the guide. We climbed up the steep 
little path, between high walls at first, then opening out 
on the hillside to the amphitheatre, which we saw quite 
well. The arena and seats are very well preserved. 
There are still rows of steps, slippery and green with 
moss. We went on again toward Cicero's Villa, and for 
a moment the clouds cleared a little, and we saw what the 
^'iew might be straight over the Campagna to Rome 
(the dome of St. Peter's just standing out — on one side 
the hills with the little villages where we have ridden so 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 113 

often, Monte Compatri, Monte Porzio, the Campi cl'An- 
nibale and Monastery of Monte Cave in the distance). 
I wonder if the old monk would tell us to-day what one 
did years ago, when we were standing on the terrace 
looking at the magnificent view : " Ouando fa bel tempo 
si puo vedere le montagne d'America " (When it is fine 
one can see the mountains of America). I thought it 
was rather pretty, his eagerness to make us understand 
what an extended view one had from his mountain top, 
and he probably didn't know where America was. How- 
ever, our little gleam of sunlight didn't last — first came 
big drops, then a regular downpour, and in a few min- 
utes a thick white mist closed around us, shutting out 
everything. We took refuge for a few moments under 
a sort of ruined portico, but the rain came down harder, 
and we decided to give up Cicero's Villa, and turn our 
faces homeward. 

The descent was neither easy nor pleasant — a steep lit- 
tle path with the donkeys slipping and stumbling, and the 
rain falling in buckets. I was wet through in ten min- 
utes, as I was very lightly dressed in a white shirt and 
foulard skirt (having stupidly left my jacket at the hotel 
as it was very warm when we started). Gert was better 
off, as she had her tweed dress. I shan't soon forget that 
descent, and as we passed Mondragone — the Borghese 
Palace — we had thunder and lightning, which didn't 
add to my comfort — however, the donkeys didn't mind. 
I was wet to the skin when we arrived at the hotel, and 
had to undress entirely and go to bed wrapped up in a 
blanket. The chambermaid lighted a fire in the room, 
and she and Gert dried my clothes as well as they could, 
and I had a cup of hot tea. About 5 my things were 
fairly dry — Gert went shopping in the town, and bought 
me a piece of flannel which I put on under my corsage 



114 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

which was stiH damp. It rained a httle when we started 
home, but cleared about half-way, and we had the most 
glorious sunset. 

It was too bad to have fallen upon such a day, and I 
am afraid we shan't have time to attempt it again. I 
was half tempted to stay at Frascati all night and try 
again the next morning, but the others thought it better 
to come home. I went to bed immediately after dinner, 
and feel quite well to-day — only a little stiff — the com- 
bined effect of the donkey and the damp. 

April II, 1880. 

Yesterday it rained hard all day, there was quite a lit- 
tle stream of water in the Piazza coming down from the 
Pincio. Certainly Rome needs sunshine, everything 
looked forlorn and colourless and everybody so depressed. 
The Spanish Steps were quite deserted, no models nor 
children galloping up and down. The coachmen of the 
fiacre-stand on the Piazza dripping and dejected on their 
boxes — nobody wanting carriages and very few people 
about, I really believe the Romans stay in when it rains. 
We didn't, of course, as our time is getting short, and the 
galleries are always a resource. We went off about 10 
to the Vatican and spent two hours there. Charles de 
Bunsen was very glad to see it all again. We went first 
to the Cappella Paolina where there was not much to see 
— some frescoes of Michelangelo's, not very well pre- 
served. It used to be so beautiful, Holy Week in Rome, 
when we were here before, brilliantly lighted for a silent 
adoration and filled with people kneeling and motionless. 

Then we went on to the Cappella Sistina where there 
were a good many people taking advantage of a rainy 
day to do the Vatican. It wasn't at all dark — I don't 
know exactly why, for the rain was pouring straight 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 115 

down. The Last Judgment is an awful picture. I 
had forgotten Charon and his boat and the agonized faces 
of the people whom he is knocking back with his oar. 
Some of the faces were too terrible, such despair and suf- 
fering. I can't think why any artist ever chooses such 
subjects, one would think they would be haunted by their 
own conceptions. 

We walked through the Stanze, I wanted to see the 
Deliverance of St. Peter ; I remember so well the engrav- 
ing that was in the dining-room at Bond Street, which 
I have sat opposite to so often. I used to be fascinated 
as a child with the Roman soldiers, particularly the one 
with a torch. We sauntered through the picture gallery 
looking at the beautiful Foligno Madonna, Communion 
of St. Jerome, and of course the Marriage of St. Cath- 
erine, and really my copy by the young German is good 
as I see the original again. We finished in the Galerie 
des Inscriptions where W. always finds odd bits of in- 
scriptions which are wildly interesting to him. I think 
for the moment yellow-books and interpellations and 
the " peuple souverain " generally as represented in the 
Chambre des Deputes are out of his head. 

The sun came out bright and w^arm in the afternoon 
and we drove to the Villa Pamphili. We stopped at San 
Pietro in Montorio on our way. It is there that St. Peter 
is said to have been crucified. The view from the .ter- 
race is very fine — the whole of Rome at our feet stretch- 
ing out over the Campagna to the Alban Hills. It was 
too early really for the view, as one ought to see it at 
sunset, when the hills take most beautiful rose blue tints 
and the Campagna looks vague and mysterious, not the 
long barren stretch of waste uncultivated land it is in 
the daylight. 

W^e stopped again at the Fontana Paolina, looked at 



Il6 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

the rush of water that tumbles into the stone basin, and 
chmbed up the Janiculum, every turn of the road giving 
the most enchanting view, out of the Porta San Pancra- 
zio to the Villa Pamphili — all Rome apparently was 
doing the same thing; there were quantities of carriages. 
It was charming in the Villa — many people had got out 
of their carriages and were walking about in the shady 
alleys. It was a relief to get out of the sun. The stone 
pines of course are magnificent, but I think I like them 
best from a distance — from the terrace of the Villa 
Medici for instance they stand out splendidly. What is 
grand is the view of St. Peter's. It seems to stand alone 
as if there were no Rome anywhere near it. The dome 
rises straight up above the green of Monte Mario, and 
looks enormous. 

We walked about the gardens with the queer, old-fash- 
ioned flower-beds and the little lake with a mosaic pattern 
at the bottom, and talked to quantities of people. The 
drive down was enchanting; the sun setting, clouds of 
every colour imaginable and a sort of soft " brume " that 
made every dirty little street (and there are many in 
Rome) look picturesque. 

We went to the ball at the British Embassy in the 
evening, taking Charles de Bunsen, who protested at first 
he didn't go to balls any more, etc., but he found plenty 
of old friends and was very glad he had gone. The 
house looked very handsome — the ball-room wdth its 
decoration of flowers, cupids, etc., had a decidedly festive 
appearance. I danced two quadrilles — one with Count 
d'Aulnay and the other with the Duke of Leuchtenberg 
who was here with his wife, Comtesse de Beauharnais. 
As it is a morganatic marriage (he is a Royal Prince) 
she can't take his name and title. She was beautifully 
dressed, had splendid jewels — pearls as big as eggs. 




o "S 

^ o 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 117 

The ball was very gay, lots of people. We stayed quite 
late; went to supper, which W. generally refuses with 
scorn, and only left at 1.30. They were preparing for 
the cotillon, but were going to dance a " tempete " (what- 
ever that may be; first. I hear they danced until 4 
o'clock. 

Thursday, 12th. 
We had a nice dinner at the Villa Medici Tuesday 
night. Tiie Director M. Cabat, his wife and daughter, 
M. anfl Madame Geoffroy and 5 or 6 of the young men. 
They all love Rome and say it is a paradise for an artist. 
Such beautiful models of all kinds in the old pictures and 
statues. I ventured to say that I thought one or two of 
the modern Roman things — fountains and statues — were 
pretty, but I was instantly sat upon by the whole party — 
"no originality; no strength, weak imitations of great 
conceptions, etc." I suppose one's taste and judgment 
do get formed looking at splendid models all the time; 
still the world of art must go on and there is no reason 
why the present generation shouldn't have graceful fan- 
cies, and power to carry out their dreams. We didn't 
stay very late and went on to Countess Somaglia, who 
was receiving. There were only two or three ladies. Her 
younger sister, Olympia Doria, married to a Colonna, 
the Marquise Sant' Asilea and two others I didn't know. 
Quantities of men came in and out, Calabrini, Vitelleschi, 
Minghetti. The " maitre de maison " was not there. I 
was sorry, as I had never seen him. Lucchesi-Palli came 
up and claimed acquaintance — said he had danced at Casa 
Pierret in the old days. I introduced him to W. who was 
rather interested at meeting a half brother of the Comte 
de Chambord. He is much astonished at the quantity 
of people I know, but I told him one couldn't live years 



TiS ITALIAN LETTERS [airil 

in Rome without seeing almost every one worth knowing, 
as everybody comes to Rome. 

Yesterday Gert and I went out together. \\". had an 
expetiition of some kind with de Rossi, and gave a din- 
ner at the Falcone to Charles and some of his men 
friends. The Roman meiui didn't tempt me. I heard 
them talking about porcupines and peacocks. I pre- 
ferred dining with Gert — she asked Mrs. \'an Rensselaer, 
and we had a pleasant evening. Mrs. \'. R. is clever and 
original, very amusing over her Italian and the extraor- 
dinary- mistakes that she knows she makes, but she keeps 
on talking all the same. It is curious how much colder 
Cert's apartment is than our rooms at the hotel — I sup- 
pose no sun ever gets into that narrow street, and one is 
quite stnick with the cold the minute one gets into the 
palace and on the stone staircase. We had a little fire 
and it wasn't at all too much — of course in the Piazza di 
Spagiia the sun streams into the rooms all day. I caine 
home early — about lo — and found the two gentlemen, 
Charles and \\'., settled ven.- comfortably eacli in a large 
ann-chair with pipe and newspaper (you can imagine the 
atmosphere in a small hotel sitting-room). They said their 
dinner was ven>- good, even the ordinary Roman wine, 
but they both agreed they wouldn't care to have that 
menu ever}- day. The talk was ven»- interesting: some 
of the men had been in Italy years ago. before the days 
of railways or modem conveniences of any kind, and their 
experiences in some of t'^e little towns near Rome were 
most amusing — most of the peasants so mistrustful of 
the artist baggage, white umbrella, camp-stool, etc., and 
so anxious, when they finally understood no hann was 
intended, that they should sketch a nice new house or a 
bit of wall freshly plastered instead of old gateways and 
tumble-down palaces. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 119 

Charles is going back to Florence to-morrow ; I think 
he has enjoyed his visit very much, it brought back so 
many recollections (he was born in Rome and spent all 
his early childhood there).* 

I wish they would settle in Rome instead of Florence, 
the life is so much more interesting here. Florence is 
charming, but asleep — here there is life, and the contrast 
between the old patrician city full of old-world memories 
and prejudices, and the political, financial atmosphere of 
this 19th century is most striking. \V. has decided to 
go to Naples for four or five days. I shan't go with him. 
He will be all day in the museums, as there is a great 
deal to see, and I should bore myself sitting alone in the 
hotel. If we could stay long enough to make some ex- 
cursions — see Sorrento, Capri, and Ischia, I would not 
hesitate, I should love to see it all again. They say 
Vesuvius is giving signs of a disturbance. 

As we were talking about Capri and Vesuvius I told 
them my experience there so many years ago, and both 
gentlemen told me I ought to write it while it was still 
fresh in my memory, so here it is and you will send the 
letter to the family in America. 

We went to Naples in October, 1867. Father died at 
Frascati the 27th of September, and we all needed change 
after the long nursing and watching. All our friends in 
Rome were most anxious we should get off; affairs were 
rapidly coming to a crisis in Italy and it was evident that 
the days of the temporal power of the Pope were num- 
bered. At any moment the Italians under Garibaldi 

* His father, Baron de Bunsen, was for years Prussian Minister at Rome, 
a most intellectual, distinguished man ; after Rome he was for many years 
Minister in England, and their house in Carlton Terrace was the rendezvous 
of all that was most brilliant and cosmopolitan in London. He married 
Miss Waddington, and his son Charles also married Miss Waddington, sister 
of William Waddington. 



I20 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

might appear at the gates of Rome and it was not con- 
sidered safe for women and foreigners to remain there. 
No one thought or talked of anything else, and though we 
were absorbed by father's illness and the numerous 
duties that a sick room entails we were quite as excited 
as all our friends. Of course we heard the two sides — 
the liberals who had high hopes of liberty and " Italia 
Unita " and the " papalini " who were convinced that the 
Italians would only enter Rome over the bodies of the 
faithful. Our young imaginations pictured anything, 
everything; the Garibaldians penetrating quite to the 
Court of the Vatican^ the Swiss Guard, Charette and his 
Zouaves, massacred ; priests flying in every direction pur- 
sued by a crowd of soldiers and infuriated populace. 
Good old Dr. Valery, who knew his countrymen better 
than we did, assured us there was no danger. When re- 
sistance was perfectly useless it would be wicked to shed 
blood, and Pio Nono himself would be the first to advise 
submission to the inevitable. We couldn't believe that 
such a tremendous change and uprooting of the tradi- 
tions of centuries could be accomplished so quietly. We 
stayed two days only in Rome after leaving Frascati. 
We laid father at rest in the little English churchyard 
just by the San Paolo gate. There was a mortuary 
chapel where he could stay till he was taken home to the 
old family churchyard at Jamaica where Grandpapa King 
and a long line of children and grandchildren are buried. 
We had to see about our mourning and were finally 
hustled out of Rome the third day, Mr. Hooker (the 
American banker), our great friend, fairly standing over 
us while the trunks were being packed. He was quite 
right. We took the last train that went through to 
Naples, carrying with us a number of letters which our 
liberal friends had asked us to mail as soon as we crossed 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 121 

the frontier, — they naturally being unwilling to trust 
them to the Roman post-office. Rome looked deserted, 
very few people about, some of the shops and hotels still 
closed, but one felt a suppressed excitement in the air. 
Some of our friends, jubilant, came to see us off at " Ter- 
mine '' and promised to send us a telegram at Naples if 
anything happened. Mr. Hooker was rather anxious. 
He too thought the Papal court wouldn't make any resist- 
ance if the Italians came, or rather when the Italians came, 
as they were marching on Rome; but he thought there 
might be trouble in the streets. He had his large Ameri- 
can flag ready to protect the bank. We of course made 
our journey very quietly and comfortably, as Garibaldi 
and his men were not on that road. I was rather disap- 
pointed, I should have liked to have had a glimpse of the 
famous revolutionary leader in his classic red shirt. We 
found Naples just the same, very full, people everywhere, 
in the Via Toledo, on the quays, etc. There wasn't much 
apparent excitement, all the red-capped, bare-legged fish- 
ermen were lounging about on the quays or in the num- 
berless little boats of all descriptions flying about in every 
direction. The same songs, " Julia Gentil," " La Luis- 
sella," " La Bella Sorrentina," were sung under our win- 
dows every night with an accompaniment of mandolins 
and a sort of tambourine. From time to time the voices 
would cease and then there would be a most lively dance 
— tarantella, saltarella — all the dancers moving lightly 
and quickly and always in perfect time. The nights were 
beautiful — warm and clear — the whole population lived in 
the streets and we were always on the balcony. The isl- 
ands, Ischia and Capri, took such beautiful colours, at 
sunset ; seemed almost like painted islands rising straight 
up out of a perfectly blue sea. Vesuvius, too, was most 
interesting. Savants were prophesying an eruption and 



122 ITALIAN LETTERS [aprh. 

every now and then faint, very faint curls of smoke came 
out of the crater. We knew nothing of what was go- 
ing on ; had no communication with Rome, and were en- 
tirely dependent for news on the landlord, whose infor- 
mation was certainly fantastic; also the little Naples 
paper, the " Pungolo," which made marvellous state- 
ments every morning — the streets of Rome running 
with blood, etc. Finally came the first news — the battle 
of " Monte Rotondo," Garibaldi and his men victorious. 
From Paris we heard that the French troops had started 
and were at Civita Vecchia, but there were so many con- 
flicting stories that we really didn't know how much to 
believe. Then came Mentana — the Garibaldians driven 
back by the Papal and French troops ; the Pope still 
supreme in Rome. We had a telegram from one of our 
liberal friends, " Le malade va bien," w^hich meant that 
the Pope had conquered, and Rome was not yet the 
capital of " Italia Unita." There was no fighting at 
all in the streets of Rome; a great deal of patriotic talk 
among the young liberals, but I don't think any of them 
absolutely enrolled themselves in Garibaldi's band. It 
wouldn't have made any difference — they could do noth- 
ing against the combined Papal and French troops — but 
it might have been a personal satisfaction to have struck 
a blow for the liberal cause. There again the common 
sense of the Italians showed itself — there was no resist- 
ing " le fait accompli," they had only to bide their time. 
We had lovely days at Naples, making all sorts of ex- 
cursions — Posilippo, Capo di Monte, Camaldoli, etc. 
Every morning we went to the Museum ; I was madly in- 
terested in the Pompeian relics, particularly the mum- 
mies. It seemed impossible to believe that those little black 
bundles had once been human beings feeling and living 
as keenly as we do now. We always kept our eyes on 



A 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 123 

Vesuvius as it really did seem as if something was going 
on. The column of smoke looked thicker and we could 
quite well see little jets of sand or small stones thrown 
up from the crater. One afternoon when we came in 
from driving everybody in the street was looking hard at 
the mountain and the padrone informed us that the erup- 
tion had begun. We didn't see anything, but after din- 
ner when we were standing on the balcony suddenly we 
saw a great tongue of flame leap out from the crater and 
a stream of fire running down the side of the mountain. 
The flame disappeared almost immediately ; came back 
three or four times in the course of the evening, but 
didn't gain very much in height or intensity. The next 
day, however, it had increased considerably and was a 
fine sight at dark, every few moments a great tongue of 
fire with quantities of stones and gravel thrown high in 
the air. We almost fancied we heard the noise of thun- 
der, but I don't think we did. People were flocking into 
Naples, and we of course, like all the rest, were most 
anxious to make the ascent. The landlord told us there 
was no danger; that the authorities never permitted an 
ascent if there was danger, and no guides would go, as 
they are very prudent. One would go up on one side 
(the only thing to avoid was the stream of red-hot lava). 
Mother was rather unwilling, particularly as we were to 
go at night (and at night from our balcony the moun- 
tain did look rather a formidable thing to tackle). We 
waited still another day and then w'hen we had seen some 
English people — two ladies and a youth who had made 
the excursion and said it was not at all alarming and 
most interesting — she agreed to let us go. Anne stayed 
with her, she doesn't like donkey riding under any cir- 
cumstances, and a donkey at night on the slopes of 
Vesuvius in eruption, with a stream of red-hot lava run- 



124 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

ning alongside, didn't strike her absolutely as a pleas- 
ant performance. We started about 7 o'clock, William, 
Henrietta, Gertrude, and I. The drive out all the way 
to Resina was most amusing. Quantities of people, the 
famous Naples " cariole " crammed with peasants and 
children, and all eyes turned to the mountain. Our land- 
lord had made all the arrangements for us, secured the 
best guides, donkeys, etc., and we were in great spirits. 
The mountain looked forbidding; as we came nearer we 
heard the noise, rumbling and thunder — the thunder 
always preceding a great burst of flames and showers of 
stones thrown up very high and falling one didn't know 
exactly where. I didn't say anything as I was very anx- 
ious to make the ascent, but I did wonder where these 
red stones fell and how one could know exactly before- 
hand. We drove as far as we could and then arrived 
at the Hermitage and Observatory, where there was a 
very primitive sort of wooden house, half tavern, half 
inn. Here donkeys and guides (very voluble) were 
waiting, and we started. It had begun to rain a little, 
but the guides assured us that it would not last and we 
should soon be above the clouds. It was almost dark — 
not quite — and everything looked weird, even the faces 
of the guides seemed to me to have a curious expression ; 
they looked fierce and wild. We went on cjuietly at first 
though the rumblings under our feet and sudden light as 
the flames burst out were unpleasant. When we began 
the last steep ascent I had got very nervous. I was the 
last of the party, and when the donkey-boy (an infant) 
took a short cut, when the path was steep, calling out 
cheerfully " Coraggio Signorina," and left me and the 
donkey alone to clamber over the great slippery blocks of 
lava, I was frightened and felt I should never get up to the 
top. It was really terrifying — the rain and mist had in- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 125 

creased very much, it was pitch dark, rumbhng and thun- 
der all the time, and such noises under our feet that I was 
sure a great hole would open and we should all be swal- 
lowed up. I didn't like the dark, but I certainly didn't 
like the light either, when a great tongue of flame would 
spring out of the crater spreading out like a fan and 
throwing a mass of stones and gravel high in the air 
which all fell somewhere on the mountain. The red 
stream of lava looked wider and seemed to me to be com- 
ing nearer, I called out to William, who was far ahead 
and looked gigantic in the mist where he was crossing 
some great rocks of lava (quite black and shiny wdien 
they are old), and told him I was too frightened, that I 
should go back to the Hermitage and wait there. He 
was much disgusted — said there was no possible danger. 
All the guides and donkey-boys repeated the same thing, 
but it was no use, I was thoroughly unnerved and 
couldn't make up my mind to go on. We had a consul- 
tation with the guides as he didn't like the idea of my 
going back alone to the inn, but they told him it was 
all right, that the padrone was a " brav'uomo " and 
would take care of me until they came back ; so most 
reluctantly they went on, and I turned my face home- 
ward, always with my minute attendant whom I would 
gladly have shaken as he was laughing and chattering 
and repeating twenty times, " non c'e pericolo." I think 
the going down was rather worse ; I had the rain in my 
face, heard all the same unearthly noises around me, and 
from time to time had glimpses of the whole country- 
side — Naples, the little villages, the islands, the bay 
standing out well in the red. light thrown on them by the 
flames from the crater; then absolute darkness and still- 
ness, nothing apparently on the mountain but me and the 
donkey scrambling and stumbling over the wet, slippery 



126 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

stones. How we ever got down to the inn I don't 
know, but both boy and donkey seemed to know the road. 
I was thankful when we emerged on a sort of terrace 
and saw a faint hght, which meant the httle inn. The 
boy helped me off (it was pouring), called out something 
at the door, told me to go in and go upstairs, then dis- 
appeared around the corner with the donkey. I called — 
no one answered — so I went upstairs, just seeing my way 
by the light of a little dull, smoky lamp put in a niche of 
the wall. I saw two doors when I got up to the top of 
the stairs, both shut, so I called again, knocked ; a man's 
voice said something which I supposed to be " entrate " 
and I walked in. I found myself in a big room hardly 
lighted — a small lamp on a table, a fire of a sort of peat 
and wood, a bed in one corner on which was stretched a 
big man with a black beard and red shirt; another man 
not quite so big, but also in a red shirt and a hat on his 
head, got up when I came in, from a chair where he had 
been sitting by the fire. He said something I couldn't 
understand, first to me and then to his companion on 
the bed, who answered I thought rather gruffly (they both 
spoke Neapolitan " patois " which I couldn't understand 
at first). I didn't feel very comfortable (still I liked even 
that room with those two brigand-looking men better 
than the mountain-side with the flames and the lava), 
but I tried to explain, took off my wet cloak which spoke 
for itself, and went toward the fire. My friend with the 
hat always keeping up a running conversation with the 
man on the bed, brought up a chair, then a sort of stand 
over which he hung my cloak, and proceeded to take a 
bottle out of a cupboard which I supposed was their 
famous wine (lacrima Christi) which one always drinks 
at Naples. However that I declined and established 
myself on the chair by the fire. He took the other one, 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 127 

and when I looked at him I saw that he had rather a nice 
face ; so I took courage. He pointed to my shoes, which 
were wet as we had walked a little, and wanted to talk. 
After a little while I began to understand him, and he 
me; and we had quite a friendly conversation. He 
looked at my shoes, asked me where they were made, 
and when I said in Rome was madly interested ; he had 
a brother in Rome, a shoemaker, perhaps I knew him 
" Giuseppe Ricci," he might have made those very shoes 
— instantly confided that interesting piece of information 
to the gentleman on the bed. He told me they were 
three brothers, the eldest was the shoemaker, then came 
he the padrone of the osteria, and the other one " there 
on the bed " had vines and made very good wine. He 
asked me if I had ever seen the Pope, or Garibaldi (there 
was a picture of Garibaldi framed on the wall), and when 
I said I had often seen the former, and that he had a 
good, kind face, he again conversed amicably with the 
gentleman on the bed, who first raised himself into a sit- 
ting posture, and finally got up altogether and came over 
to the fire, evidently rather anxious to take part in the 
conversation. He was an enormous man and didn't look 
as nice as the " padrone." He rather startled me when he 
bent down, took my foot in his hand and inspected the 
shoe which he pronounced well made. We must have 
sat there fully half an hour talking — they were perfectly 
easy, but not familiar, and wanted to hear anything I 
would tell them about Rome. Every now and then they 
dropped off into some side talk in their " patois," and I 
looked at the fire and thought what an extraordinary ex- 
perience it was, sitting alone with such odd-looking com- 
panions in that big, bare room on the top of Mount 
Vesuvius. The fire had almost died out, the miserable lit- 
tle lamp gave a faint flickering light that only made every- 



128 ITALIAN LETTERS [Apru. 

thing look more uncanny, and every now and then the 
whole room would be flooded with a red lurid light (her- 
alded always by a violent explosion which made the crazy 
little house shake) which threw out the figures of the two 
men sitting with their long legs stretched out to the fire, 
and keeping up a steady talk in a low voice. Still I 
wasn't afraid ; I was quite sure they would be respectful, 
and do all they could to help me. They had a sort of 
native politeness, too, for they stopped their talk occa- 
sionally and made conversation for me; one looked out 
of the window and said the rain had stopped, but that the 
night was " brutta " and they referred to other eruptions 
and told me stories of accidents that had happened to 
people — two young men, " Inglesi," who were killed be- 
cause they would go on their own way and not listen to 
the guides, consequently were knocked on the head by 
some huge stones ; always assuring me that this eruption 
was nothing. However I was getting tired, and found 
the time long, when suddenly we heard the noise of a 
party arriving, and for a moment I thought it was my 
people; but no, they were coming the other way, up the 
mountain. There was a great commotion and talking, lan- 
terns flashing backward and forward, donkeys being led 
out and all preparations made for the ascent — but there 
seemed a hitch of some kind and I heard a woman's voice 
speaking English. The " padrone " had rushed down- 
stairs as soon as he heard the party arriving, and pres- 
ently he reappeared talking very hard to a lady and two 
gentlemen who were coming upstairs behind him and 
evidently wanting something which they couldn't make 
him understand. He was telling them to have patience, 
that there was an " Inglese " upstairs who would talk to 
them. They were so astounded when they saw me that 
they were speechless — il y avait de quoi — seeing a girl 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 129 

established there in rather a dishevelled condition, her hat 
off, wet cloak hanging over the chair, and entirely alone 
with those " Neapolitan brigands " — but one man ven- 
tured to ask timidly " did I speak English." Oh yes — 
Italian, too — what could I do for them. They explained 
that the lady was tired, cold and wet (she looked mis- 
erable, poor thing) and wanted a hot drink — brandy, any- 
thing she could get. She didn't look as if she could go 
on, but she said she would be all right if she could have 
something hot, and that nothing would induce her to give 
up the excursion, having come so far ; so a fresh piece of 
wood, or peat rather of some kind (it looked quite black), 
was put on the fire, also water in a most primitive pot. I 
suggested that she should take off her cloak and let it dry a 
little. The men brought in some more chairs and then the 
new comers began to wonder who I was and what I was 
doing there alone at that hour of the night. They were 
Americans, told me their name, but I have forgotten it, 
it is so long ago. I told them my experience — that I 
was absolutely unnerved, in a dead funk, and would have 
done anything rather than go on toward that horrible 
crater. They couldn't understand that I wasn't much 
more afraid of spending two hours in that lonely little 
house in such company, and begged me to try again — 
there was really no danger, people were going up all the 
time, etc. The older man was very earnest — said they 
couldn't leave a compatriot in such straits — he would 
give me his donkey if another one couldn't be procured 
and would walk — how could my brother have permitted 
me to come back alone, etc. However I reassured him as 
well as I could — told them I was perfectly accustomed 
to Italians and knew the language well (which was a 
great help to me, I don't know what I should have done 
if I hadn't been able to talk and understand them). 



130 



ITALIAN LETTERS [April 



They stayed about 20 minutes — the lady said her drink 
was very nasty, but hot, and she looked better for the 
rest and partial drying. She wasn't as wet as I was, the 
rain had stopped when they were half-way up. I told 
them who I was and begged them to say, if they met my 
people coming down, a gentleman and two ladies, that 
they had seen me, and that I was quite dry and comfort- 
able. They went away most reluctantly, were half in- 
clined to stay until the others should come back, but the 
guides were anxious to be off. Even at the last moment 
when they had got downstairs, the older man came back 
and begged me to come with them — " I assure you, my 
dear young lady, you don't know in what a dangerous po- 
sition you are; if I had any authority over you I should 
insist, etc." He was very nice, and left all sorts of rec- 
ommendations in English and a very good fee to the 
padrone, who of course didn't understand a word of 
what he was saying, but seemed to divine in some mys- 
terious way. He looked smilingly at me, told me to cheer 
up (" Coraggio " is their way of saying it) and told the 
American, in Italian, that he would take good care of me. 
He was very sorry to go and leave me, said he had never 
done anything he liked so little. As soon as the excite- 
ment of their departure was over the two men came back. 
The " vigneron " went back to his bed, from where he 
conversed with us occasionally, and the other one set- 
tled down in his chair, and seemed half asleep. It wasn't 
very long before my party came back. The men heard 
them before I did, and told me they were arriving. I 
must say I was glad to see them. They had had a splendid 
time, seen everything beautifully, gone quite up to the 
stream of red-hot lava, put umbrellas and canes into it 
(the ends were quite black and burnt) — they were not 
in the least nervous, and jibed well at me. William said 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 131 

he had rather an uncomfortable feehng at first when he 
saw me and my very small attendant depart, but he for- 
got it in the excitement and novelty of their excursion. 
He thanked the padrone for taking such good care of 
me, proposed a hot drink (very bad it was) all round, 
and we took quite a friendly leave of the two gentlemen. 
I promised to try and find the brother shoemaker. They 
had crossed my American friends on the way back — • 
William said they were just starting down when they 
saw another party appearing and he heard a gentleman 
say, " I think this must be Mr. King." He was very 
much surprised to hear his name, but rode up to the 
speaker, to see who he was, and then the gentleman told 
him of his amazement at meeting his sister in that 
wretched little shanty and how miserable he had felt at 
leaving me there alone, with two Neapolitan brigands, 
but that I had assured him I was quite safe and not at all 
afraid of the two black giants — but he begged William 
to hurry on, as it was not really the place to leave a girl 
— even an American who would know how to take care 
of herself. We made our journey down quite easily. It 
was still pitch dark, except when the fire of the mountain 
lighted up everything, but there was neither rain nor 
wind, the air was soft, and the little outlying villages 
looked quite quiet and peaceable, as if no great mountain 
was throwing up masses of ashes and stones just over 
their heads, which might after all destroy them entirely. 
There must always be a beginning, and I suppose in the 
old days of Pompeii and Herculaneum the beginning was 
just what we have seen — first columns of smoke, then the 
lava stream and showers of red-hot stones, and none of 
the people frightened at first. We found Mother and 
Anne waiting for us with supper. They had been a 
little anxious, particularly as the weather was so bad, 



132 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

and they evidently had had more of a tempest than we 
had. They were of course madly interested in our expedi- 
tion and were astounded that I was the coward. They 
wouldn't have been at all surprised if it had been Gert. 
It is true she is nearly always timid, and we used to play 
all sorts of tricks on her when we were children at Cherry 
Lawn, beguile her up into the big cherry tree, then take 
the ladder away and tell her to climb down ; or take the 
peg out of the boat, let in a little water and pretend it 
was sinking — so she was triumphant this time. I can't 
understand why I was so frightened. I am not usually 
afraid of anything, but that time no reasoning would 
have been of the least use, and nothing would have made 
me go on to the crater. Mother was rather like the 
American — she wouldn't have liked the flames and the 
awful rumbling noises any more than I did, but she would 
have been much more afraid of the lonely house and long 
wait on the mountain in that wretched little inn with 
those two big, black-bearded Neapolitans. 

Le monde est petit — years afterward my brother Will- 
iam was travelling in America, and in the smoking- 
room all the men were telling their experiences either at 
home or abroad — many strange adventures. One gen- 
tleman said he had never forgotten a curious scene on the 
top of Mount Vesuvius in eruption, when he had met an 
American girl, quite alone, at night, in the dark and 
rain, in a miserable little shanty with two great, big Nea- 
politans " looking like brigands " (he evidently always 
retained that first impression of my companions). He 
told all the story, giving my name, which excited much 
comment; some of the listeners evidently thought it was a 
traveller's tale, arranged on some slight foundation of 
truth — however, when he had finished William said : 
" That story is perfectly true. The young lady is my sis- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 133 

ter, and I am the Mr. King to whom you spoke that night 
on the mountain, in the dark, begging me to hurry down, 
and not leave my sister any longer alone in such com- 
pany." They naturally didn't recognise each other, hav- 
ing merely met for a moment in the dark, both wrapped 
up in cloaks and under umbrellas. They had quite a 
talk, and the gentleman was very anxious to know how 
they found me — whether I wasn't really more uncom- 
fortable than I allowed, and what had become of me. 

We decided to move on to Sorrento and settle ourselves 
there for some time. We also wanted to go to Capri, 
but the steamers had stopped running, and we could only 
get over in a sailboat. The man of the hotel advised 
us to go from Sorrento, it was shorter and a charm- 
ing sail on a bright day. The drive from Castellamare 
was beautiful; divine views of the sea all the time 
and equally lovely when we came down upon Sorrento, 
which seemed to stand in the midst of orange groves and 
vineyards. The Hotel Sirena is perched on the top of 
a high cliff rising up straight from the sea. We had 
charming rooms with a nice broad balcony, and at our 
feet a little sheltered cove and beach of golden sand. 
There were very few people in the hotel — the one or two 
English spinsters of a certain age whom one always meets 
travelling, and two artists. We were only about twelve 
people at table-d'hote ; and as we were six that didn't 
leave many outsiders. It was before the days of res- 
taurants and small tables. There was one long, narrow 
table — the padrone carved himself at a smaller one, and 
talked to us occasionally. There was too much wind the 
first days to think of attempting Capri, so we drove all 
over the country, walked about in the orange groves and 
up and down the steep hills, through lovely little paths 
that wound in and out of olive woods along the side of 



134 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

the mountain, sometimes clambering up a bit of straight 
rock, that seemed a wall impossible to get over — when 
it was too stiff there would be steps cut out in the earth 
on one side, half hidden by the long grass and weeds. 

Henrietta and I had discovered a pony trap with a 
pair of sturdy little mountain ponies, quite black, and 
we drove ourselves all over. Mother w^ouldn't let us go 
alone, so the stableman sent his son with us, aged 12 
years. He w^asn't much of a protector ! but he knew the 
ponies, and the country, and everybody we met. He was 
a pretty little fellow — not at all the dark Italian type, 
rather fair, with blue eyes, but always the olive skin of 
the South. He invariably got off the little seat behind 
and took a short cut up the hills when the road was very 
steep, though I don't think his weight made any percep- 
tible difference. 

The evenings were delicious. We sat almost always 
on the balcony — sometimes with a light wrap when the 
breeze from the sea freshened about 9 o'clock. How 
beautiful it was ; the sea deep blue, the islands changing 
from pink to purple, and as soon as it was dark Vesuvius 
sending up its pyramid of fire. It looked magnificent, 
but very formidable. Almost every morning we saw a 
party come and bathe in the little cove at the foot of the 
cliff — a pretty little boat came around the point with a 
family party on board — two ladies, one man and three 
children. I think they were English, their installation 
was so practical. They had a small tent, camp-stools, 
and table, also two toy sailboats wdiich were a source 
of much pleasure and tribulation, as they frequently got 
jammed in between the rocks, or caught in the thick sea- 
weed, and there was great excitement until they were 
started afresh. We made great friends with the sister of 
the man at the hotel. She was a nun, such a gentle, good 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 135 

face — she came every morning to get flowers for the ht- 
tle chapel of Maria — Stella del Mare — which was near 
the house, standing high on the hill and easily seen from 
the sea. One day she seemed very busy and anxious 
about her flowers, so we asked what was happening, and 
she said it was their great fete, and they were going to 
decorate the chapel and dress the Virgin — " should we 
like to see it ? "' The Virgin had a beautiful dress — white 
satin with silver embroidery and some fine jewels which 
some rich forestieri had given. We were delighted to go, 
and went with her to the little chapel, which looked very 
pretty filled with flowers and greens, one beautiful dark, 
shiny leaf which made much effect. The Virgin was re- 
moved from her niche — her vestments brought in with 
great care, wrapped in soft paper, and the good sister 
most reverently and happily began the toilet. The dress 
was very elaborate, had been the wedding dress of an Ital- 
ian Principessa, and there were some handsome pins and 
rings — a gold chain on her neck with a pearl ornament. 
She was rather lamenting over the cessation of gifts — 
when I suddenly remembered my ring — quite a plain gold 
one with the cross (pax) one always sees in Rome, which 
had been blessed by the Pope. I put it on with three or 
four other little ornaments one day when we had an audi- 
ence. I took it off, explained to her what it was, that it 
had been blessed by the Saint Pere and that I should like 
very much to give it to the Virgin, if she wasn't afraid 
of accepting anything from a heretic. She was a little 
doubtful, but the fact of its having had the Pope's bless- 
ing outweighed other considerations, and the ring was 
instantly put on the Virgin's hand. She told us after- 
ward that she had told it to the priest, and he said she was 
quite right to accept it. it might be the means of bring- 
ing me to the " true church." We grew really quite fond 



136 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

of her. It was such a simple, childish faith, her whole 
life was given up to her little chapel, cleaning and deco- 
rating it on feast days. All the children in the country 
brought flowers and leaves, one little boy came once, she 
told us, with a dead bird with bright feathers that he 
found, quite beautiful. 

We made friends with the people at the table-d'hote 
and they were very anxious we should come down to 
the reading-room at night and make music — but our 
mourning of course prevented that. We used to hear 
the piano sometimes and a man's voice singing, not too 
badly. 

At last the wind seemed to have blown itself out, and 
our landlord said we could get easily to Capri. He could 
recommend an excellent boatman who had a large, safe 
boat and who was most prudent, as well as his son. With 
a fair wind we ought to go over in two hours. We 
wanted to stay over one night, and he arranged every- 
thing. The boat would wait and bring us back the next 
evening. We started early — about 9 o'clock — so as to 
get over for breakfast. The boat was most comfortable, 
a big broad tub, with rather a small sail, plenty of room 
for all our bags, wraps, etc. The sea was divine, blue 
and dancing, but there was not much wind. We pro- 
gressed rather slowly, the breeze was mild, the boat heavy 
and the sail small, but nobody minded. It was delicious 
drifting along on that summer sea — just enough ripple 
to make little waves that tumbled up against the side of 
the boat, and a slight rocking motion that was delight- 
ful — couldn't have suggested sea-sickness or nervousness 
to the most timid sailor. There were plenty of boats 
about (mostly fishermen) of all sizes, some of them with 
the dark red sail that is so effective, and several pleasure 
boats and small yachts. They were almost as broad and 



i8So] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 137 

solid as our boat ; hadn't at all the graceful outlines and 
large sails that we are accustomed to. We were exactly 
three hours going over though the breeze freshened a 
little as we got near Capri. We were quite excited when 
we made out the landing-place (" Marina grande ") and 
the long, steep flight of steps leading up to the town. 
The last time we were there we went by the regular tour- 
ist steamer from Naples. There were quantities of people 
and a perfect rush for donkeys and guides as soon as we 
arrived ; also the whole population of Capri on the shore 
chattering, offering donkeys, flowers, funny little bottles 
of wine, and a troop of children running up the steps 
alongside of the donkeys and clamouring for " un piccolo 
soldo." This time there was no one at the landing-place, 
but the man of the hotel with a sedan chair for mother, 
donkeys for us if we wanted them (we didn't — preferred 
walking) and a wheelbarrow or hand cart of some kind 
for the luggage, which was slight — merely bags and 
wraps. There were a good many steps, but they were 
broad, we didn't mind. We found a very nice little hotel, 
kept by an English couple. The woman had been for 
years maid in the Sheridan family. She told us there 
was no one in the hotel but one Englishman — in fact no 
foreigners in the island. We had a very good breakfast 
in a nice, fairly large room with views of the sea in all 
directions, and started ofT immediately afterward to see 
as much as we could. Mother had her chair, but didn't 
go all the way with us. We passed through narrow, 
badly paved little streets with low, pink houses, lots of 
people, women and children, standing in the doorways — 
no men, I suppose they were all fishing — and then climbed 
up to the Villa Tiberius — a steep climb at the end, but 
such a view. Before we got quite to the top we stopped 
at the " Salto di Tiberio," a rock high up over the water 



138 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

from which the guide told us that monarch had his vic- 
tims precipitated into the sea. We dropped down stones 
(I remember quite well doing the same thing when we 
were there before) to see how long it was before they 
touched the water, which showed at what a height one 
was. The palace is too much in ruins to be very interest- 
ing, but there was enough to show how large it must have 
been, and bits of wall and arches still standing. We 
went on to the chapel, drank some rather bad wine which 
the hermit offered us, bought some paper weights and 
crosses made out of bits of coloured marble which had 
been found in the ruins, and wrote our names in his book. 
We looked back in the book to see if there were any in- 
teresting signatures, but there was nothing remarkable — 
a great many Germans. 

We came home by another path, winding down through 
small gardens, vineyards, and occasionally along the steep 
side of the mountain, all stones and ragged rocks, with 
the sea far down at our feet. There were a good many 
houses scattered about, one or two quite isolated near the 
top. We had a running escort of little black-eyed brown 
children all talking and offering little bunches of moun- 
tain flowers. The guides remonstrated vigorously occa- 
sionally and they would disappear, but were immediately 
replaced by another band from the next group of houses 
we passed. 

We were rather tired when w^e got back to the hotel 
as the climbing was stiff in some parts, and glad to rest 
a little before dinner. The padrona came in and talked 
to us. It seemed funny to see an English woman in that 
milieu with her brown hair quite smooth and plain and a 
clean print dress. She said she liked her life, and the 
people of the island. They were industrious, simple and 
easy-going. She talked a great deal about the Sheridans, 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 139 

for whom she had of course the greatest admiration, said 
one of the sons came often to Capri, and that his cousin 
Norton had married a Capri fisher-girl. We had heard 
the story, of course, and were much interested in all 
she told us. She said the girl was lovely, an absolute 
peasant, had walked about with bare feet like all the rest, 
but that she had been over to England, was taught there 
all they could get into her head, and was quite changed, 
had two children. I remember their telling us in Rome 
what a difficult process that education was. She was 
willing and anxious to learn to read and write, but her 
ambition and her capability of receiving instruction 
stopped there — when they wanted to teach her a little his- 
tory (not very far back either) and the glories of the 
Sheridan name she was recalcitrant, couldn't interest her- 
self and dismissed the subject saying, " ma sono morti 
tutti " (they are all dead). She always kept her little 
house at Capri, in fact was there now, perhaps we should 
like to see her. We said we should very much. 

We had nice, clean comfortable rooms and made out 
our plan for the next day. We didn't care about the Blue 
Grotto — we had seen it before, and besides they told us 
that at this season of the year it would be almost impos- 
sible, one must have a perfectly still sea as the entrance 
is not easy — very low — and a big wave would swamp the 
boat. We heard the wind getting up a little in the night 
and we woke the next morning to see a grey, cloudy sky, 
little showers falling occasionally, and a fine gale, sea 
rough, no little boats out, one or two fishing boats racing 
along under well-reefed sails, anything but tempting for 
a three hours' sail in an open boat. Mother looked de- 
cidedly nervous ; however the matter w'as taken out of 
our hands, for the boatmen appeared saying they would 
not go out, which was rather a relief; we didn't mind 



I40 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

staying. There was a fair library in the house, books 
that visitors had left, so we hunted up a history of Capri 
(Baedeker was soon exhausted), and got through our 
morning pretty well, some reading aloud, the others knit- 
ting or working. We had all taken some sort of work in 
our bags, various experiences of small hotels on rainy 
days having taught us to provide our own amusement. 

It cleared in the afternoon though the wind was still 
very high and we set off — on donkeys this time — and 
mother in her chair, to the other side of the island. Two 
or three girls, handsome enough in their bright skirts, 
bare brown legs and thick braids of hair, came with us to 
take charge of the donkeys. As we were going up a steep 
flight of steps (which the donkeys did very well and delib- 
erately) they began to tell us about Mrs. Norton and said 
we should pass her house. It was amusing to hear them 
talk of her wonderful luck in being married to this " bel 
Inglese " ; " adesso fa la signora sta in camera tutto il 
giorno — colle mani bianche " (" Now she does the lady, 
sits in her room all day with white hands "). We passed 
several houses rather better than the ordinary fisherman's 
cottage and then came upon a nice little white house, 
standing rather high, with a garden and gate, which they 
told us was Mrs. Norton's. We stopped a moment at the 
gate, looking at the garden ; mother's bearers put her 
chair down and gave themselves a rest, and we saw a 
lady appear very simply dressed in something dark, who 
came to the gate and asked us in very nice English with 
a pretty accent if we would come in and rest, as the day 
was hot and we had had a steep climb. \Ve heard all 
the fisher-girls giggling and saying " Eccola la Signora." 
We were half ashamed to have been seen gaping in at her 
garden, but the invitation was simply and cordially given, 
and we accepted. Her manner to mother was quite pretty, 



I 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 141 

respectful to the older lady. We went into a pretty- 
little sitting-room quite simply furnished, with books and 
photographs about. She showed us pictures of all her 
family, her husband (regretting extremely that he was 
not there), her mother-in-law, Mrs. Norton, and her chil- 
dren. She seemed very proud of her son, said he was 
at school in England and didn't care very much for Capri. 
I asked her if she liked England, and though she said 
" very much," I thought I detected a regret for her old 
home, though not perhaps her old life. Her face quite 
lighted up when we said how much we admired her island 
with its high cliffs and beautiful blue sea. I didn't find 
her as handsome as I expected, but the eyes were fine and 
her smile charming. Her manner was perfectly natural, 
she showed us very simply all she had, and was not in 
the least curious about us — asked us no questions, was 
evidently accustomed to seeing foreigners and tourists 
at Capri. We stayed about half an hour, and then went 
on our way. She shook hands with us all, and looked 
most smilingly at mother ; couldn't quite understand her 
black dress and white cap — said we mustn't let her do too 
much, " she is not so young as you, la mamma." 

Of course the fisher-girls were in a wild state of excite- 
ment when we came out — all talked at once, stopping in 
the middle of the path, the donkeys, too ; when they had 
much to say, and telling the whole story over again. I 
said to one of them, " Should you like to marry a ' bel 
Inglese ' and go and live in another country far away from 
Capri with no sun nor blue sky? " She thought a mo- 
ment, looking straight at me with her big, black eyes and 
then answered, sensibly enough, my rather foolish ques- 
tion — she had never thought about it — was quite happy 
where she was. It was a curious meeting. 

When we got back to the hotel we asked our padrona 



142 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

about Mrs. Norton and the life she led. She told us 
Mrs. Norton mere * had been in despair when her son 
married the fisher-girl — he was very good-looking and 
her favourite, and it was a great blow to her, but that 
she had been very good to her and was fond of the 
boy. She didn't seem to think the young woman had 
had a very happy life, but that she was always delighted 
to get back to Capri. " Did she see any of her old 
friends?" "Not much — that was difficult — she only 
came in the summer, the children generally with her, and 
they fished and sailed and made their own life apart." 

We got back to Sorrento the next morning — the sea 
beautifully smooth and calm — no trace of the great waves 
that had roared all night into the numerous caves, throw- 
ing up showers of foam. 

My dear, I seem to have prosed on for pages about 
Naples, but once started I couldn't stop. Tell Henrietta 
I feel rather like her when we used to call her Mrs. 
Nickleby, because she never could keep to any one subject, 
but always made long, foolish digressions. 

Monday, April 13th. 
Last night we had a pleasant dinner at Mr. Hooker's, 
the American banker. He still lives in one end of his 
apartment in the Palazzo Bonaparte, but has rented the 
greater part to the Suzannets.f We were a small party 
— ourselves, Schuylers, Ristori (Marchesa Caprannica), 
and her charming daughter. Ristori is very striking 
looking — very large, but dignified and easy in her move- 
ments, and a wonderfully expressive face. The girl, 
Bianca Caprannica, is charming, tall, fair, graceful. Ris- 
tori talked a great deal, speaks French, of course, per- 

*The well-known poetess and beauty, nee Sheridan. 

t Comte de Suzannet, Secretary of the French Embassy. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 143 

fectly. She admires the French stage, and we discussed 
various actors and actresses. I should love to see her act 
once, her voice is so full and beautiful. Such a character- 
istic scene took place after coffee. We were still sitting 
in the dining-room when we heard a carriage come in, 
and instantly there was a great sound of stamping horses, 
angry coachman, whip freely applied, etc. It really made 
a great noise and disturbance. Ristori listened for a 
moment, then rushed to the window (very high up — we 
were on the top story), exclaiming it was her man, 
opened it, and proceeded to expostulate with the irate 
coachman in very energetic Italian — " Che diavolo! "were 
these her horses or his, was he a Christian man to treat 
poor brutes like that, etc.' — a stream of angry remonstrance 
in her deep, tragic voice. There was a cessation of 
noise in the courtyard — her voice dominated everything — 
and then I suppose the coachman explained and excused 
himself, but we were so high up and inside that we 
couldn't hear. She didn't listen, but continued to abuse 
him until at length Hooker went to the window and sug- 
gested that she might cease scolding and come back into 
the room, which she did quite smilingly — the storm had 
passed. 

This morning we have been to the Doria Gallery. The 
palace is enormous, a great court and staircase and some 
fine pictures. We liked a portrait by Velasquez of a Pope 
— Innocent X, I think — and some of the Claude Lor- 
raines, with their curious blue-green color. We walked 
home by the Corso. It was rather warm, but shady al- 
ways on one side of the street. After breakfast Cardinal 
Bibra, the Bishop of Frascati, came to see us. He was 
much disappointed that we had had such a horrid day for 
our Frascati and Tusculum expedition, and wants us to 
go again, but we haven't time. We want to go to Ostia 



144 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

and Albano if it is possible. He and W. plunged into 
ecclesiastical affairs. It is curious what an importance 
they all attach to W.'s being a Protestant; seem to think 
his judgment must be fairer. He also knew about Uncle 
Evelyn having married and settled in Perugia, and had 
heard the Pope speak about him. He spoke about the 
Marquis de Gabriac (Desprez's predecessor) and re- 
gretted his departure very much. I think he had not yet 
seen the new Ambassador. W. told him Desprez would 
do all he could to make things go smoothly, that his whole 
career had been made at the Ouai d'Orsay, where every 
important question for years had been discussed with 
him. 

Tuesday, April 14th. 
We dined last night at the Black Spanish Embassy with 
the Cardenas. It was very pleasant. We had two cardi- 
nals — Bibra and a Spanish cardinal whose name I didn't 
catch ; he had a striking face, keen and stern, didn't talk 
much at dinner — Desprez and his son, the Sulmonas, 
Bandinis, Primolis (she is nee Bonaparte), d'Aulnays, 
all the personnel of the French Embassy, and one or two 
young men from the other embassies; quite a small din- 
ner. W. took in Princess Sulmona and enjoyed it very 
much. Primoli took me, and I had Prince Bandini on 
the other side. Both men were pleasant enough. All 
the women except me were in high dresses, and Primoli 
asked me how I had the conscience to appear " decol- 
letee " and show bare shoulders to cardinals. I told him 
w^e weren't told that we should meet any cardinals, and 
that in these troubled days I thought a woman in full 
dress was such a minor evil that I didn't believe they 
would even notice what one had on ; but he seemed to 
think they were observant, says all churchmen of any de- 




Pope Pius IX. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 145 

nomination are. Their life is so inactive that they get 
their experience from what they see and hear. I talked 
a few minutes to Princess Bandini after dinner, but she 
went away almost immediately, as she had music (Tosti) 
at home. We promised to go to her later — I wanted 
very much to hear Tosti. The evening was short. The 
cardinals always go away early — at 9.30 (we dined at 
7.30, and every one was punctual). As long as they 
stayed the men made a circle around them. They are 
treated with much deference (we women were left to 
our own devices). W. said the conversation was not 
very interesting, they talk with so much reserve always. 
He said the Spaniard hardly spoke, and Cardinal Bibra 
talked antiquities, the excavations still to be made in Tus- 
culum, etc. I think they go out very little now, only 
occasionally to Black embassies. Their position is of 
course much changed since the Italians are in Rome. 
They live much more quietly; never receive, their car- 
riages are much simpler, no more red trappings, nothing 
to attract attention — so different from our day. When 
Pio Nono went out it was a real royal progress. First 
came the " batta strada " or " piqueur " on a good horse, 
stopping all the carriages and traffic; then the Pope in 
his handsome coach, one or two ecclesiastics with him, 
followed by several cardinals in their carriages, minor 
prelates, members of the household and the escort of 
" gardes nobles." All the gentlemen got out of their 
carriages, knelt or bowed very low; the ladies stood in 
theirs, making low curtseys, and many people knelt in the 
street. One saw the old man quite distinctly, dressed all 
in white, leaning forward a little and blessing the crowd 
with a large sweeping movement of his hand. He rarely 
walked in the streets of Rome, but often in the villas — 
Pamphili or Borghese. There almost all the people he 



146 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

met knelt ; children kissed his hand, and he would some- 
times pat their little black heads. We crossed him one 
day in the Villa Pamphili. We were a band of young- 
sters — Roman and foreigners — and all knelt. The old 
man looked quite pleased at the group of young people — 
stopped a moment and gave his blessing with a pretty 
smile. Some of our compatriots were rather horrified at 
seeing us kneel with all the rest — Protestants doing 
homage to the head of the Roman Catholic Church — and 
expressed their opinion to father : it would certainly be a 
very bad note for my brother.* However, father didn't 
think the United States Government would attach much 
importance to our papal demonstration, and we continued 
to kneel and ask his blessing whenever we met His Holi- 
ness. He had a kind, gentle face (a twinkle, too, in his 
eyes), and was always so fond of children and young 
people. The contrast between him and his successor is 
most striking. Leo XUI is tall, slight, hardly anything 
earthly about him — the type of the intellectual, ascetic 
priest — all his will and energy shining out of his eyes, 
which are extraordinarily bright and keen for a man of 
his age. 

We didn't stay very long after the cardinals left, as I 
was anxious to get off to Princess Bandini. We found 
a great many people, and music going on. Some woman 
had been singing — a foreigner, either English or Ameri- 
can — and Tosti was just settled at the piano. He is quite 
charming; has very little voice, but says his things de- 
lightfully, accompanying himself with a light, soft touch. 
He sang five or six times, principally his own songs, with 
much expression ; also a French song extremely well. His 
diction is perfect, his style simple and easy. One won- 
ders why every one doesn't sing in the same way. They 

* General Rufus King, last United States Minister to the Vatican. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 147 

don't, as we perceived when a man with a big voice, high 
barytone, came forward, and sang two songs, ItaHan and 
German. The voice was fine, and the man sang well, but 
didn't give half the pleasure that Tosti did with his " voix 
de compositeur " and wonderful expression. He was in- 
troduced to me, and we had a pleasant talk. He loves 
England, and goes there every season. A good many 
people came in after us. I wanted to introduce \Y. to some 
one and couldn't find him, thought he must have gone, 
and was just going to say good-night to Princess Ban- 
dini when her husband came up, saying, " You mustn't 
go yet — your husband is deep in a talk with Cardinal 
Howard." and took me to one of the small salons, where I 
saw the two gentlemen sitting, talking hard. The Cardi- 
nal was just going when we came in, so he intercepted 
W. and carried him off to this quiet corner where they 
would be undisturbed. They must have been there quite 
three-quarters of an hour, for I went back into the music- 
room, and it was some little time before W. found me 
there. Every one had gone, but we stayed on a little 
while, talking to the two Bandinis. It is a funny change 
for W. to plunge into all this clerical society of Rome; 
but he says he understands their point de vue much bet- 
ter, now that he sees them here, particularly when both 
parties can talk quite frankly. It would be almost im- 
possible to have such a talk in France — each side begins 
with such an evident prejudice. The honest clerical really 
believes that the liberal is a man absolutely devoid of 
religious feeling of any kind — a dangerous character, in- 
capable of real patriotic feeling, and doing great harm to 
his country. The liberal is not quite so narrow-minded ; 
but he, too, in his heart holds the clergy responsible for 
the want of progress, the narrow grooves they would like 
the young generation to move in, and the influence they 



148 ITALIAN* LETTERS [April 

try to exercise in families through the women (who all 
go to church and confession). With the pitiless logic of 
the French character every disputed point stands out clear 
and sharp, and discussion is very difficult. Here they 
are more supple — leave a larger part to human weak- 
nesses. 

Thursday, April lOth. 
We have finally had our day at Albano. and delightful 
it was. W. and I went alone, as Gert was not very well, 
and afraid of the long day in the sun. \\> started early 
— at 8.30 — though we had been rather late the night be- 
fore as Count Coello, Spanish Ambassador,* sent us his 
box for the opera. It was Lohengiin — well enough 
given, orchestra and chorus good, but the solists rather 
weak. Elsd, a very stout Italian woman of mature 
years, did not give one just the idea of the fair patrician 
maiden one imagines her to be. The Italian sounded 
very funny after hearing it always in Gennan, and 
*' Cigno gentil "' didn't at all convey the same idea as 
" Lieber Schwan." The tenor had a pretty, sympathetic 
voice and looked his part well (rather more like Elsa's 
son than her lover), but one mustn't be too particular. 
The house was fairly brilliant — much fuller than the last 
time we were there — and quantities of people we knew. 
Hardly any one in full dress, which is a pity, as it makes 
the salle look dull. One or two women in white (one 
very handsome with diamond stars in her hair, whom no- 
body knew) stood out very well against the dark red of 
the boxes. Del Monte came in and sat some time with 
us. He is quite mad about Wagner — rare for an Italian. 
They generally like more melody and less science. We 
invited him to come to Albano with us and show us every- 

* To the Quirinal. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 149 

thing, and I think he was half incHned to accept, but he 
was de service that day and it was too late to find any 
one to replace him. 

We finally decided to drive out after various consulta- 
tions as to hours, routes, etc. It is quicker by the rail- 
way and we should perhaps have rather more time, but we 
both of us love the drive on the Campagna, and W. was 
very keen to take the old Via Appia again and realize 
more completely the street of tombs. It was a lovely 
morning and every minute of the drive interesting, 
even when we were almost shut in between the high grey 
walls which stretch out some little distance at first leaving 
the Porta San Sebastiano. They were covered with 
creepers, pink roses starting apparently out of all the 
crevices; pretty, dirty little children tumbling over the 
broken bits into the road almost under the horses' feet; 
every now and then a donkey's head emerging from an 
opening, or a wrinkled old woman appearing at some open 
door smiling and nodding a cheerful " Buon giorno! " to 
the passers-by. There was a long string of carts with 
nothing apparently in them. They didn't take much 
trouble about getting a little to one side to let the carriage 
pass ; and their drivers — some of them stretched out on 
their backs in the carts, the reins hanging loosely over 
the seat — didn't at all mind the invectives our coachman 
hurled at them, " pigs, lazy dogs, etc." Of course we 
passed again Cecilia Metella, also two tombs said to be 
the Horatii and Curatii ; and the Casale Rotondo with a 
house and olive trees on the top, but I cannot remember 
half the names, nor places. 

We were armed with our Baedeker, but it goes into 
such details of all the supposed tombs and monuments 
that one gets rather lost. I don't know that it adds very 
much to the interest to know the names and dates of all 



150 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

the tombs. One feels in such an old-world atmosphere 
they speak for themselves. The colours were beautiful 
to-day — the old stones had a soft, grey tint. It is a 
desolate bit of road all the same — so little life or move- 
ment of any kind. As we got further out we came upon 
the long line of aqueducts, but there were apparently miles 
of plain with nothing in sight — occasionally a flock of 
sheep in the distance, the shepherd riding a rough, un- 
kempt little pony, and looking a half-wild creature him- 
self — some boys on donkeys, and the shepherds' dogs, 
which came barking and jumping over the plain toward 
the strangers. They are sometimes very fierce. Years 
ago in Rome when we used to make long excursions rid- 
ing to Vei or Ostia, the gentlemen of the party always car- 
ried good big whips to keep them off. They have been 
known to spring on the horses, w^ho are afraid of them. 
One sprang on Gert once, when w^e were cantering over 
the Campagna, and almost tore her habit off. We didn't 
meet any cart or vehicle of any description. I wondered 
where all these were going that we passed on the road, 
and asked our Giuseppe, but he merely shrugged his shoul- 
ders and said they were '' robaccia " (trash). 

We stopped a few minutes at the Osteria della Frat- 
tocchie — the man watered his horses (had a drink him- 
self, too) and w^as very anxious we should try some of the 
" vino del paese." We tasted it — a sour, white wine, 
very like all the cheap Italian wines. The view from the 
Osteria looking back toward Rome was very striking. 
Long lines of ruined, crumbling tombs and arches — great 
blocks of stone, heads of columns, mounds, wide ditches 
choked up with weeds, broken walls — all the dead past of 
the great city. The sun was bright, but there were plenty 
of little clouds, and the changing lights and shades on the 
great expanse of the Campagna were beautiful. The 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 151 

hills seemed now so near that we almost felt like getting 
out and walking, but the man assured us we had still 
three or four miles before us, and a steep hill to climb — 
Albano on the top. The road was shady — between two 
lines of trees. As we got near the city we saw Pompey's 
tomb — a high tower with bits of marble still on the walls. 
W. is rather sceptical about all the tombs; would like 
to have time enough to investigate himself and make out 
all the inscriptions, but it would take a lifetime. 

We went at once to the hotel to order breakfast, and 
then strolled about in the streets until it was ready. It 
looked more changed to me than Frascati — more modern. 
They tell me many people go out there now for their sum- 
mer " villegiatura," principally English and Americans, 
bankers, doctors, artists, etc.,who are obliged to spend their 
summer in or near Rome. There were many new houses, 
and in all the old palaces apartments to rent. There were 
a few^ tourists walking about, but happily no Cook's this 
time. When we went back to the hotel we told the land- 
lord what we wanted to see — Ariccia, Genzano and Nemi. 
He suggested donkeys, but that we both declined, so he 
said he had a good little carriage which could take us 
easily. The breakfast was good, we were both hungry, 
and after coffee we walked about in the Villa Doria under 
the ilex trees. W. smoked and was (juite happy, and I 
wasn't sorry to walk a little after having been so long in 
the carriage. We went to the gardens of the Villa 
Altieri. It was there the Cardinal died in the cholera 
summer of '69 when we were at Frascati. We could 
almost have walked to Ariccia, it is so near, and such a 
lovely road, all ilex trees and great rocks, winding along 
the side of the hill. The church and old Chigi Palace 
look very grand and imposing as one gets near the gates 
of the little town. We walked about the streets and went 



152 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

into the church, but there was not much to see, and I 
thought it less effective seen near ; then on to the gardens 
of the Capuchin Convent, from where there are splendid 
views in every direction, and always the thick shade of 
the ilex. We couldn't loiter very much as w^e had the 
drive to Genzano before us. The road was quite beau- 
tiful all the way; every turn familiar (how many times 
we have ridden over it), and Genzano with its little, old 
streets straggling up the hill looked exactly the same. I 
had forgotten the great viaduct which one sees all the 
time on that road, it is splendid. We again got out of 
the carriage and walked up a steep little path to have a 
view of Lake Nemi. It lay far down at our feet — a lit- 
tle green pond (yet high too), they say it was a volcanic 
crater. The water was perfectly still — not even a shim- 
mer of light or movement. Every way we turned the view 
was beautiful — either down the valley where the colours 
were changing all the time, sometimes quite grey, when the 
sun was under a cloud (one almost felt a chill), and then 
every leaf and flower sparkling in the sunlight — or toward 
the hills where the little towns Rocca di Papa and Monte 
Cavo seemed hanging on the side of the mountain. 

The drive back to Albano by the " Galleria di Sotto " 
under the enormous ilex trees was simply enchanting, the 
afternoon sun throwing beautiful streaks of yellow light 
through the thick shade, and the road most animated — 
groups of peasants coming in from their work in the 
fields; old women tottering along, almost disappearing 
beneath the great bundles of fagots they carried on their 
heads; girls with jet-black hair and eyes, in bright-col- 
oured skirts, and little handkerchiefs pinned over their 
shoulders, laughing and singing and chaffing the drivers 
of the wine carts, who usually got down and walked along 
with them, leaving their horses, who followed quietly, the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 153 

men turning around occasionally and talking to them. 
In the fields alongside there were teams of the splendid 
white oxen and quantities of children tumbling up and 
down the banks and racing after the carriage. They spot 
the foreigner at once. I had talked so much to W. about 
the beauty of the road, the Galleria in particular, that I 
was afraid he w^ould be disappointed ; but he wasn't, was 
quite as enthusiastic as I was. 

When we got back to Albano I tried to find some of 
the little cakes (ciambelle) we used to buy wdien we rode 
over from Frascati ; the little package wrapped up in 
greasy brown paper and tied to the pommel of the sad- 
dle; but the woman at the very nice baker's or confec- 
tioner's shop we went into hadn't any, but said she could 
make a " plome cheke " (she showed us the ticket with 
the name on it with pride), which was what all the 
" Inglesi " took. 

The drive home was lovely — just enough of the beau- 
tiful sunset clouds to give colour to everything; the air 
soft and the world so still that a dog barking in one of 
the little old farms or shepherds' huts made quite a dis- 
turbance. As the evening closed in w-e heard the "grilli " 
(alas, no nightingales; it is still too early) and the bushes 
along the road were bright with fire-flies. The road 
seemed much less lonely going back to Rome; so many 
peasants were coming back from the fields, also boys on 
donkeys with empty sacks — had evidently taken olives, 
cheese, or dried herbs into the city — and always bands 
of girls laughing and singing. It was an ideal day, and 
after dinner we were just tired enough to settle in our 
respective arm-chairs and say how glad we were we had 
decided to come and spend these months in Italy. 

The Schuylers came in for a cup of tea and Gert was 
rather sorry she hadn't come, as her headache wasn't very 



154 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

serious. I think they will take themselves out to Albano 
for a little stay as soon as the heat begins. 

Friday, April 17th. 
This morning we went for a last turn in the Vatican. 
That is what W. likes best. There is so much to see in 
that marvellous collection. He wanted to copy one or 
two inscriptions, so I wandered about alone and talked to 
the custode, who has become an intimate friend of ours. 
He hovers about W. when he is taking notes or examining 
things closely, and is evidently much gratified at the inter- 
est he takes in everything — cjuite like a collector showing 
off his antiquities. We saw a little commotion at one end 
of the long gallery, and he came running up to say " His 
Holiness " was walking in the garden, and if we would 
come with him he would take us to a wnndow from where 
we could see him quite distinctly. This of course we 
were deHghted to do, as one never sees the present Pope, 
except in some great ceremony when he is carried in the 
" sedia gestatoria," but so high over the heads of the 
people that one can hardly distinguish his features. We 
w^alked down the gallery, through two or three passages, 
up a flight of stairs, and came upon a window looking 
down directly on the gardens. They are beautiful, more 
like a park than a garden, and one can quite understand 
that the Pope can get a very good drive there, the days 
he doesn't walk. The custode says he only walks when 
it is quite fine, is afraid of the damp or wind, but that he 
goes out every day. There is a wood, flowers, long alleys 
stretching far away bordered with box and quite wide 
enough for a carriage, various buildings, a casino, tower, 
observatory, etc., also fountains and a lake (I didn't see 
a boat upon it). In the middle of one of the alleys a 
little group was walking slowly in our direction — about 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 155 

10 people I should think. The Pope, dressed always in 
white, seemed to walk easily enough. He carried himself 
very straight, and was talking with a certain animation 
to the two ecclesiastics who walked on each side of him. 
He stopped every now and then, going on with his con- 
versation and using his hands freely. He was talking all 
the time, the others listening with much deference. The 
suite seemed to consist of three or four priests and two 
servants. I didn't see either a Suisse or Garde-Noble, 
but they may have been following at a distance. Our 
glimpse of him was fleeting, as he turned into a side alley 
before he got up to our window — still it was enough to 
realize his life — think of never going outside those walls, 
walking day after day in those same alleys, cut ofif from 
all the outside world and living his life in the still- 
ness and monotony of the Vatican. However it certainly 
doesn't react in any way upon his intellect. They say 
he is just as keen and well up in everything as when he 
was Bishop of Perugia, and that his indomitable will will 
carry him through. 

We thanked our old custode very warmly (and in 
many ways) for having brought us to the window, and 
also said good-bye to him, as this of Course was our last 
visit to the Vatican. He begged us to come back, but it 
must be soon, or he wouldn't be there, as he was as old 
as the Pope. 

When we got to the hotel we found Monsignor Eng- 
lish in the salon with the Pope's photograph, very well 
framed with a gilt shield with the Papal arms on the top. 
It is exactly like him, sitting very straight in his chair, 
his hand lifted a little just as if he were speaking, and the 
other hand and arm resting on the arm of the chair. He 
is dressed in his white robes, red cape and embroidered 
stole, just as we saw him; and his little white cap on his 



156 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

head. He has written himself a few words in Latin, of 
which this is a free translation : " The woman who fears 
God, makes her own reputation. Her husband was cele- 
brated in his country when he sat with the Senators of 
the land." I am so pleased to have the photograph — 
so many people told me I should never get it, that the 
Pope rarely gave his picture to anybody and never signed 
one. Monsignor English, too, was much pleased, as he 
had undertaken the whole thing. He said again that the 
Pope was glad to have seen W., found him so moderate, 
and yet very decided, too, about what the church mustn't 
do. Leo XIII. has an awfully difficult part to play — 
the ultra-Catholics disapprove absolutely his line — can't 
understand any concession or compromise with Republi- 
can France, and yet there are very good religious people 
on the liberal side, and he, as Head of the Church, must 
think about all his children, and try to conciliate, not 
alienate. It is wonderful that that old man sitting up 
there by himself at the top of the Vatican can think out 
all those perplexed questions and arrive at a solution. 
They say he works it all out himself — rarely asks advice. 
I daresay it wouldn't help him if he did. for of course 
there are divisions, too, in the clerical party of Rome, even 
among the Cardinals, where the difference of nationalities 
must have a very great influence. I should think there 
was almost as much difference betw^een an American and 
an Italian Cardinal as between Protestants and Catholics. 
The American must look at things from a different point 
of view. Monsignor English quite understood that — 
said Americans were more independent — still when a 
great question came they must submit like all the rest. 

We then had a most animated discussion as to how far 
it was possible for an intelligent man (or woman) to 
abdicate entirely his own judgment, and to accept a thing 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 157 

which he was not quite sure of because the church decided 
it must be. I think we should have gone on indefinitely 
with that conversation, never arriving at any solution, so 
it was just as well that breakfast put a stop to it. 

We went for a lovely drive in the afternoon, out of the 
Porta del Popolo, across Ponte Molle, and then along the 
river until we came to that rough country road, or lane, 
leading across the fields where we have gone in so many 
times on horseback, to the Villa Madama. We drove as 
far as we could (almost to the gate) and then walked 
up the hill to the Villa itself. There everything was quite 
unchanged — the garden neglected, full of weeds, and 
grass growing high. The oval stone basin was there 
still, the sides covered with moss, and a few flowers com- 
ing quite promiscuously out of walls, stones, etc. We 
went into the loggia to see the paintings and frescoes, 
all in good condition, and then sat some time on the ter- 
race looking at the view, which was divine — everything 
so soft in the distance, even the yellow Tiber looked sil- 
very — at least I saw it so ; I don't know that W. did. He 
generally finds it sluggish and muddy. We came home 
by the Porta Angelica and drove through the Square of 
St. Peter's. There are always people on the steps, not a 
crowd of course as on fete days, but enough to give ani- 
mation, priests, beggars, and the people lounging and 
looking at whatever passes in the Square. It is so enor- 
mous, the Piazza, when one sees it empty, one can hardly 
realize what it used to be in the old days for the great 
Easter ceremony when the Pope gave his blessing from 
the balcony of St. Peter's. I can see it now, packed black 
with people, the French soldiers wnth their red caps and 
trousers making great patches of colour, and Montebello 
(who commanded the French Armee d'Occupation in 
Rome) with a brilliant staff in the centre of the Square — 



158 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

he and his black charger so absolutely motionless one 
might have thought both horse and rider were cast in 
bronze. There were all sorts of jokes and chattering in 
the crowd until the first glimpse of the waving peacock 
plumes, and banners, passing high, high up, and just 
visible through the arches, showed that the Pope's proces- 
sion was arriving on the balcony; and when at last one 
saw distinctly the white figure as the old man was raised 
high in his chair there was an absolute stillness in all that 
great mass ; every one knelt to receive the blessing, and 
the Pope's voice rang out clear and strong (one could 
hear every word). As soon as it was over cannon fired, 
bells rang, and there fluttered down over the crowd a 
quantity of little white papers (indulgences) which every 
one tried to grasp. It was a magnificent cadre for such 
a ceremony — the dome of St. Peter's towering above us 
straight up into the blue sky, the steps crowded with 
people, the red umbrellas of the peasants making a great 
show, and women of all conditions and all nationalities 
dressed in bright, gay colours ; uniforms of all kinds, 
monks and priests of every order ; the black of the priests 
rather lost in all the colour of uniforms, costumes, etc. 
The getting away was long — we might have had our car- 
riage with the American cockade in one of the back courts 
of the Vatican, but we wanted to see everything and come 
home by the Ponte St. Angelo. It was a great show all 
the way — the long line of carriages and pedestrians 
streaming back to Rome, cut every now and then by a 
detachment of troops. Everybody was cheered, from 
Charette and his Zouaves to Montebello and his staff. 
The crowd was in a good humour — it was a splendid day, 
they had had a fine show, and politics and " foreign mer- 
cenaries " were forgotten for the moment. Everybody 
had a flower of some kind — the boys and young men in 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 159 

their hats, the girls in their hair. One heard on all sides 
" buona festa," " buona Pasqiia." How we enjoyed it 
all, particularly the first time, when we were fresh from 
America and our principal idea of a fete was the 4th of 
July. That seemed a magnificent thing in our childish 
days, when we had friends on the lawn at Cherry Lawn, 
a torch-light procession with a band (such a band) from 
the town, and father's speech, standing at the top of 
the steps and telling the boys that if they worked hard 
and studied well, any one of them might become Presi- 
dent of the United States, which statement of course was 
always received with roars of applause. 

We went back to the Piazza always at night to see the 
" Girandola " fireworks, and there was almost the same 
crowd waiting for the first silvery light to appear on the 
faqade of St. Peter's. It was marvellous to see the lines 
of light spread all over the enormous mass of stone, run- 
ning around all the cupolas and statues like a trail of 
silver, in such quantities that the stone almost disap- 
peared, and the church seemed made of light — quite beau- 
tiful. The illumination lasted a long time — gold light 
came after the silver, and I think it was perhaps more 
striking when they began to go out one by one, leaving 
great spaces in darkness — then one saw what an enor- 
mous edifice it was. 

I have written you a volume — but every turn here re- 
calls old, happy days — " Roma com' era " — and I must 
come back to the present and our farewell dinner at the 
Noailles'. 

We were a small party — all the French Embassy, the 
Due de Ripalda, the Chilian Minister and his wife, Maf- 
fel, Visconti Venosta, and Lanciani. W. and Noailles 
retired to the fumoir and talked politics hard. We shall 
soon be back in the thick of it now, and W. will take 



l6o ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

his place again in the Senate. It will seem funny to be 
quietly settled in the rue Dumont d'Urville — riding in the 
Bois in the morning and driving over to the Senate in 
the afternoon, with the boy, to get W. Ripalda and 
I had a long talk. He tells me he still holds the same 
opinion about American women — they are the prettiest 
and most attractive in the world. There is something 
— he doesn't know what — that makes them different from 
all the others. I asked him if he remembered Antoinette 
Polk ; to which he promptly replied, " Ah, qu'elle etait 
belle — une deesse." I must tell her how she lives in his 
old memory. I always find Noailles pleasant — so grand 
seigneur. 

We found all sorts of cards and invitations when we 
came in, and a surprise for me from Father Smith which 
pleased me greatly, a silver medal of Leo XIII. in a case. 
It is about the size of a five-franc piece — rather larger if 
anything, and so like, the small head, and fine, sharply 
cut features, such a nice note, too, from Father Smith; 
he was very glad to be able to offer me something which 
he knew I would prize, and that it wasn't necessary to be 
of the same religion to admire and appreciate a great in- 
tellect and a good man. I am very proud of my two 
pictures, and shall show them triumphantly to some of 
my Catholic friends and relations who can't understand a 
Protestant and a heretic caring for such souvenirs. 

We can't accept any more dinners as we leave on Mon- 
day, W. for Naples and I for Florence. I wanted very 
much to go to Ostia, I should like W. to see that deso- 
late, sandy shore with the pines coming down almost to 
the water's edge, and the old castle rising up in the dis- 
tance; but it is an all-day excursion and we haven't time. 
We will try and do Vei, which is an easy afternoon's 
drive. I must stop now — W. is deep in Baedeker, look- 



I 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE i6i 

ing out Ostia and Vei, and must also write a note to 
Geoffroy about something they want to see to-morrow. 
I shall go and see something with Gert. 



Sunday, April 19, 1880. 
Yesterday we had an enchanting day at Tivoli, W., 
Gert and I. Schuyler was detained in Rome, much to 
his disgust, on business. He loves a day in the country 
and is most amusing to go about with. He talks to 
everybody, priests, peasants, soldiers, and always gets 
odd bits of information about old customs, legends, 
family histories — all that makes the story of a nation. 
Tomba gave us a light carriage and a pair of strong 
horses (our little ones were not up to the long day). 
We started at 8 in the morning and didn't get back until 
8.30. There is a steam tram now all the way out but we 
preferred driving, as we wanted to stop at Hadrian's 
Villa. We went out by Porta San Lorenzo, crossed the 
Arno (the river which makes the falls of Tivoli) at Ponte 
Mammolo, and had a good two hours' drive (rather 
more, in fact) to Hadrian's Villa. I didn't find that part 
of the Campagna very interesting (it was much finer 
after one left the Villa). We left the carriage at the en- 
trance of a sort of lane (one doesn't see much before get- 
ting actually inside) between high banks covered with 
every description of vine and creepers ; and wild flowers 
and weeds in a tangle at our feet (it was really difficult 
walking sometimes), and found ourselves in an open 
space, with ruins in every direction — a half-crumbling 
wall, weeds choking it up ; part of a theatre with broken 
columns and steps, a few bits of mosaic but not much 
colour of any kind ; some bas-reliefs very well preserved ; 
but one felt that everything of value had been taken away, 



1 62 JTALIAN LETTERS [April 

and what was left was so hidden in long grass and weeds 
that it was difficult to understand all the former magnifi- 
cence of the famous Villa. 

The custode was most conscientious, explained every- 
thing — the arena, theatre, baths, temples, etc., but my 
impression was a mass of grey, broken bits of stones and 
columns. There were one or two splendid stone pines 
vStanding up straight and tall, looking like guardians of 
past splendour, and in every direction the crooked little 
grey-green olive trees and fields full of flowers. Gert and 
I sat on the wall in a shady corner, while W. and the cus- 
tode went off some little distance to look at a fountain, and 
we were not sorry to have the rest. The last part of the 
drive, winding up the hill to Tivoli, was beautiful — such 
splendid views all the time, either toward Rome (St. 
Peter's standing out, a faint blue dome at the end of the 
long, flat plains of the Campagna ; or on the other side 
the Sabine Hills, Soracte, Frascati, etc.). 

We went straight to the little old hotel of the Sybilla, 
which looks exactly the same as in our day, and ordered 
breakfast. We were quite ready for it, having had 
our " petit dejeuner " at 7.30. The padrone said he 
wanted half an hour to prepare it, as the regular table- 
d'hote was over. Of course the railway tourists got out 
much quicker than we did and we met them all over the 
place, when we went out to see the famous Temple of 
Vesta. It is perched on the top of the cliff, looking as 
if it would take very little to precipitate it into the mass 
of rushing, leaping water tumbling itself over the rocks 
far below at our feet. We had a very good breakfast, 
capital trout for which Tivoli is famous, and a most talka- 
tive landlord who came to superintend the meal and give 
us any information we wanted. He said we must have 
donkeys to make the " giro," which would take us about 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 163 

two hours, and we could finish at the Villa d'Este, where 
the carriage would come and get us. 

We walked about a little in the town after breakfast 
through narrow, dirty streets with curious old bits of 
architecture, and into the church, or cathedral as they 
grandly call it, of San Francesco ; but there was really 
nothing to see; and at two we started for our tournee to 
the grottoes of Neptune and the Sirena. We all walked 
at first, two donkeys with the usual pretty little black- 
eyed boys at their heads following (W. of course 
wouldn't have a donkey but took a cane which the 
padrone of the Sybilla strongly recommended as the steps 
going down to the grotto were steep and slippery). I 
wondered how the donkeys would get on, but made no 
remarks as I knew I could always get off. We walked 
through the little town under a nice old arch and up a 
path which was pleasant enough at first, but when we 
wound round the side of the hill Gert and I were glad 
to mount our beasts as the sun was very hot and 
there wasn't an atom of shade. It was a beautiful ex- 
cursion, always something to see — ruins of old castles, 
temples, gateways — so much really that one couldn't take 
in details. From certain " points de vue " the Temple of 
Vesta seemed almost standing on air — one lost the cliff, 
which disappeared in a sort of mist. As soon as we 
began to go down the noise of the rushing water was 
quite overpowering; we couldn't hear ourselves speak, 
and the glimpses we had of the quantities of little 
falls leaping over big rocks and stones were quite en- 
chanting. 

Our little donkeys were perfectly sure-footed and the 
path good though steep. We dismounted before getting 
quite down to the grottoes and the steps certainly were 
rough and slippery. The guide took charge of Gert, and 



1 64 ITALIAN LETTERS [aprh. 

I followed in W.'s wake very carefully. It was icy cold 
when we got all the way down. I am generally imper- 
vious to that sort of thing, but I felt the cold strike me 
and didn't stay long. The chill passed entirely as soon 
as we came out and began the ascent, leaving the dark, 
deep pool behind us. 

The road back was, if possible, more beautiful; great 
ravines with olive trees half way down their sides, moun- 
tain streams in every direction making countless little 
cataracts, all dancing and sparkling in the sun — rocks 
covered with bright green moss, and fields carpeted with 
wild flowers. The guide pointed out various ruins — the 
Villa of Maecenas — a great square mass on the top of 
a hill — but we didn't care to make a long detour to go 
up to it. We were quite satisfied with all the natural 
beauty we saw around us — one old bridge, the arches 
covered with moss and flowers, and every now and then 
through the olive trees one had glimpses of arches, col- 
umns, temples — quite beautiful. The only drawback was 
the Cook's tourists who were riding and walking and 
talking all over the place, making jokes with the guides 
and speaking the most execrable Italian. However they 
had already done the Villa d'Este, so we lost them there, 
which was a relief. 

The Villa was enchanting after the heat and glare of 
the road, and at first we sat quite quietly on a grassy bank 
and enjoyed the thick shade of the enormous cypresses. 
The custode was very anxious we should make the classic 
tour with him but we told him we knew the place — it 
was by no means our first visit. I explained to him in 
Italian that I was a " vecchia Romana " (old Roman), 
to which he replied with true Italian gallantry, "non tanto 
vecchia — son to vecchio " (no, not at all old — I am old), 
and old he was, his face all yellow and wrinkled like the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 165 

peasants who live on the Canipagna and are poisoned with 
malaria. 

I should think, though, the Villa d'Este was healthy, 
it stands so high. It is almost uninhabited, belongs now 
to Cardinal Hohenlohe, but they tell me he never lives 
there, never sleeps — comes out for the day from Rome 
and goes back at night. It is sometimes let to foreigners. 
The garden is quite beautiful, perfectly wild and neg- 
lected but a wealth of trees, fountains, statues, terraces 
— it might be made a paradise with a little care. There 
are few flowers (like most Italian gardens) except those 
that grow quite wild. There is still the same great arch 
at one end of the terrace w'hich just frames a stretch of 
Campagna, making a beautiful picture. 

We had a delicious hour wandering about, stopping to 
rest every now and then, and sitting on some old bit of 
wall or column — no one there but ourselves and not a 
sound except the splashing water of the fountains. W. 
W'as delighted, and we were very sorry to leave. The 
afternoon light was so beautiful, penetrating through the 
black cypress avenue, however, we had a long drive back, 
longer even than coming, as we w-anted to make a detour 
to look at the sulphur lakes. Our coachman was evi- 
dently anxious to leave. We heard an animated parley at 
the gate of the Villa, and the custode appeared to say 
the carriage was there and the coachman said it was 
time to start if we wanted to get back to Rome before 
nightfall. I think he didn't want to be too late on the 
road. 

It was still warm when we started back, but we hadn't 
gone very far w'hen it changed completely and I was very 
glad to put on my jacket and a shawl over it. It is a 
long, barren stretch of Campagna toward the sulphur 
lakes; one smelt the sulphur some time before arriving. 



1 66 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

They were not particularly interesting, looked like big, 
stagnant ponds, with rather yellowish water. Our man 
was decidedly uncomfortable. The road was absolutely 
lonely — not a person nor a vehicle of any kind in sight, 
the long straight road before us, and the desolate plains 
of the Campagna on each side. He fidgeted on his box, 
looked nervously from side to side, whipped up his horses, 
until at last W. asked him what was the matter, what was 
he afraid of. " Nothing, nothing, but it was late. We 
were strangers and one never could be quite sure what 
one would meet." It was not very reassuring, and when 
we saw once or twice a figure looming up in the distance, 
a man or two men on horseback, who might be shepherds 
or who might be bandits, we were not very comfortable 
either; we semed to feel suddenly that it was getting dark, 
that we were alone in a very lonely road in a strange 
country, and we didn't mind at all when the coachman 
urged his horses to a quick gallop, and got over the ground 
as fast as he could. 

We didn't say much until the little twinkling lights of 
the first " osterias " began to show themselves, and as 
we got nearer Rome and met the long lines of carts and 
peasants, some walking, some riding, we felt better and 
agreed that it wasn't pleasant to feel afraid, particularly 
a vague fear that didn't take shape. 

When we drew up at the door of the hotel, after having 
deposited Gert at her Palazzo, we asked the coachman 
what he had been afraid of — was there any danger; to 
which he (safe on his box in the Piazza di Spagna) re- 
plied with a magnificent gesture that a Roman didn't 
know what fear meant, but he saw the ladies were ner- 
vous. It seems absurd now this morning, sitting at the 
window with the Piazza full of people, that we should 
have felt so uncomfortable. I asked W. if he was ner- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 167 

voiis. He said rather, for from the moment of starting 
he saw the coachman didn't want to take the side-road 
to the sulphur lakes, which was certainly wild and lonely, 
also that he was most anxious to get on. If the carriage 
had been merely stopped to rob us it would have been 
very disagreeable as we had no means of defence, nothing 
but our parasols, and of course nobody near to come to 
our rescue. I don't think our Giuseppe would have made 
a very vigorous resistance. After all, adventures do hap- 
pen, and it would have been unpleasant to return to Paris 
minus one ear or one finger or any other souvenir of a 
sojourn in a bandit camp. 

As we didn't get home until nearly nine I proposed no 
dinner, but " high tea " upstairs in our salon. W. de- 
murred at first, like all men he loathes that meal dear to 
the female mind, but upon reflection thought it would 
be best. The gerant came up to speak about some boxes 
we want to send to Paris direct from here, and we told 
him of our return and the coachman's evident terror. 
He said he could quite understand it, that it was a very 
lonely, unfrequented bit of road leading to the sulphur 
lakes, and that we had chosen our time badly ; all the 
tourists went first to the lakes before going to Tivoli, and 
it would have been a temptation to some of the wlid shep- 
herds and Campagna peasants to stop the carriage and in- 
sist upon having money or jewels. He didn't think there 
was any danger to our lives, nor even to our ears. They 
wouldn't have made much of a haul — I had no jewels of 
any kind, except my big pearl earrings — and W. very lit- 
tle money — three or four hundred francs. It was a dis- 
agreeable experience, all the same. I don't like being 
afraid, and I was. We went a swinging pace for about 
three-quarters of an hour — the horses on a good quick 
gallop. 



1 68 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

I went to church this morning. It is a nice walk from 
here and the clay is enchanting — warm, but just air 
enough to make exercise pleasant. W. was off early with 
Geoffroy. They put off yesterday's excursion until to- 
day, as W. was very anxious to see Tivoli. 

The trunks are being packed, the gerant apparently 
superintending operations, as I hear a great deal of con- 
versation in the anteroom. Madame Hubert has an ex- 
traordinary faculty for getting all she wants — an excel- 
lent quality in a travelling maid. As you know she is 
very pretty, which again carries out my favourite theory 
that beauty is the most important gift for a woman. I 
daresay it won't bear discussion, and I ought to say 
" goodness," but my experience points the other way. I 
have so often heard father quote Madame de Stael (who 
was very kind to him when he was a young man in Paris) 
who, at the very height of her triumph as the great 
woman's intelligence of her time, said to him one evening 
at a big party in Paris, looking at Madame Recamier, 
who was beautiful, and surrounded by all that was most 
distinguished and brilliant in the room, " Je donnerai 
toute mon intelligence pour avoir sa beaute." 

I am so sorry to go — though of course I shall be glad 
to see you all, but we have enjoyed ourselves so much. 
I wonder when I shall see it all again, and I also wonder 
what makes the great charm of Rome. It appeals to so 
many people of perfectly different tastes. W. has been 
perfectly happy and interested (and in many things, not 
only in inscriptions and antiquities) and I am sure such 
an absolute change of life and scenes was the best rest he 
could have after the very fatiguing life of the last two 
years. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 169 

Sunday, April 19, 1880, 10 o'clock. 

We have just come in from our farewell dinner with 
Gert, our last in Rome, or rather my last. I go to Flor- 
ence to-morrow morning, but W. stays on till Tues- 
day. He is going to dine at the Wimpffens to-morrow 
night with some colleagues and political people. He has 
stopped downstairs to finish his cigar and give direc- 
tions about some books he wants sent to Paris, and I 
will finish this letter. I have nothing to do — the trunks 
are all packed, some already downstairs, and the salon 
looks quite bare and uncomfortable, notwithstanding some 
flowers which Mrs. Bruce and Trocchi have sent for 
good-bye. 

Gert and I had a nice afternoon. It was so beautiful 
that we went for a last drive in the country, and I shall 
carry away a last summer impression almost, all blue 
sky, bright flowers, deep shadows, and a w^arm light over 
everything. It is wonderful how the Campagna changes 
— almost from day to day (not only with the change of 
seasons), quite like the ocean. To-day, for instance, was 
enchanting, the air soft and mild, a smell of fresh earth 
and flowers everywhere, the old towers and tombs stand- 
ing well out, rising out of a mass of high grass and wild 
flowers, and taking a soft pink colour in the warm sun- 
light — so clear that one could see a great distance — 
and all the little villages made white spots on the hills. 
It is quite different from the winter Campagna, which 
stretches away — miles of barren, desolate plains; the 
rocks look quite bare, the hills are shrouded in mist, and 
one has a feeling of solitude and of dead nature which is 
curious. I suppose history and all the old legends work 
upon the imagination and incline, us to idealize the most 
ordinary surroundings; but there are always the long 



lyo ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

lines of ruined aqueducts, the square, massive towers, 
and great memorial stones that one comes upon in most 
unexpected places; and an extraordinary feeling of a 
great dead past which I don't think one has anywhere 
else. 

We passed through the Piazza Montanara, and by the 
old theatre of Marcellus on our w^ay out. I wanted to 
see the little, dark, dirty corner I was always so fond of. 
The fruit-stall was still there, jammed up against the 
wall, half hidden by the great stones, remains of bal- 
conies, and arched windows that jut out from the great 
black mass — all that remains of the once famous theatre. 
The piazza was very full — peasants, donkeys, boys selling 
fruit and drinks, and in one corner the " scrivano " (pub- 
lic letter-writer) with his rickety little old table, pen, 
paper, and ink, waiting for any one who needed his ser- 
vices. Thirty years ago, it seems, he did a flourishing 
trade, Sundays particularly, and there would be a long 
string of people patiently waiting their turn. Much 
chaffing and commenting when some pretty girl appeared, 
smiling and blushing, wanting to have a letter writ- 
ten to her sweetheart away with his regiment in foreign 
parts or high up on some of the hills with his sheep 
or cattle. To-day there was hardly any one — a wrinkled 
old woman dictating something about a soldier and ap- 
parently not making it very clear, as the writer (not the 
classic old man with a long beard, but a youth) seemed 
decidedly impatient. We had quite time to take it all 
in, as the people (donkeys too) were all standing in the 
middle of the street and didn't hurry themselves at all to 
move apart and let the carriage pass. We were evidently 
near the " Ghetto," as we saw some fine types of Jewish 
women, tall, handsome creatures, carrying themselves 
very well; quite unlike the men, who were a dirty, hard- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 171 

featured lot, creeping along with that cringing, depreca- 
tory manner which seems inherent in the race. 

We crossed the bridge and drove through part of the 
Trastevere, which certainly looked remarkably dark and 
uninviting on this lovely summer afternoon. There are 
of course fine buildings, churches, and old palaces, some 
half tumbling down, and all black with dirt and age. 
The streets were dirty, the children (quantities of them 
playing in the streets) dirty and unkempt ; clothes of all 
kinds were hanging out of the windows, falling over 
sculptured balconies and broken statues, in what had been 
stately palaces — every now and then flowers in a broken 
vase. There were some fine old arched gateways with a 
rope across on which clothes and rags were drying, and 
dreadful old men and women sitting under them on dirty 
benches and broken chairs. There was a smell (not to 
use a stronger word) of dirt and stale things, fruit and 
vegetables, also a little '' frittura," which one always per- 
ceives in the people's quarter in Rome. I had forgotten 
how wretched it all was, and we were glad to get away 
from the smells and the dirt and find ourselves on the road 
along the river which leads to Ponte Molle. It was too 
late to think of Vei, but we drove some distance along 
the road. The Campagna looked quite beautiful, and 
every group we passed a picture in the soft evening light. 
Sometimes a woman with a baby on her shoulder (the 
child with a red cap) standing well out against the sky — 
sometimes one or two shepherds on their shaggy moun- 
tain ponies seeming quite close to us, but really far away 
on the plains (always wrapped in their long cloaks, 
though it was a summer evening). Every now and then 
a merry band of girls and soldiers. The " bersaglieri " 
with their long feathers and the girls with bright, striped 
skirts swinging along at a great pace, always singing and 



172 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

laughing ; of course the inevitable old woman carrying a 
heavy load of fagots or dried grass on her poor bent 
back ; and equally of course the man with her lounging 
along, a cigar in his mouth and hands in his pockets, evi- 
dently thinking that to carry a heavy burden was " lavoro 
di donna." Poor old women ! I daresay they hardly 
remember that they were once straight, active girls, sing- 
ing and dancing in the sunlight with no thought of old 
age nor fears for the future. 

As soon as we crossed the bridge going back there 
were many more people on the road. There are " os- 
terias," gardens, and small vineyards on each side of the 
road almost up to the Porta del Popolo, and as it was 
Sunday, the whole population was abroad. Many of the 
women carry their babies perched on their shoulders (not 
in their arms) and steady them with one hand. The 
little creatures, their black heads just showing out of the 
sort of bag or tight bands they are wrapped in, look quite 
contented — some of them asleep. 

We went up to the Pincio, to have a last look at St. 
Peter's and the Doria pines before the sun went down. 
There were few people; it was late, and we had the ter- 
race to ourselves. The dome stood out, quite purple, 
against a clear blue sky, and seemed almost resting on the 
clouds. There was a slight mist, which detached it from 
the mass of buildings. Rome hardly existed — we only 
saw the dome. I was sorry W. was not there to have 
that last beautiful picture in his mind. Del jMonte, who 
was also lingering on the terrace, joined us and said he 
would walk back with me along the terrace of the Villa 
Medici, so I sent Gert back to her palazzo in the carriage 
and he and I strolled along and talked over old times; 
so many recollections of things done together — rides on 
the Campagna, hours of music of all kinds, particularly 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 173 

at the Villa Marconi at Frascati. I asked him if he 
had ever gone back there since we left. The villa was 
often let to forestieri. One year there was an English 
family there, father, mother, one son, and eight daughters. 
They used to go about always in three carriages. He 
said he had never known any one there since us. He re- 
membered so well all the music we did in the big room. 
When it was a fine night all the mezzo ceto (petite bour- 
geoisie) who were in " villegiatura " at Frascati would 
congregate under our windows, whenever we were sing- 
ing and playing. If they liked our music they applauded ; 
if they didn't (which happened sometimes, when the 
strains were not melodious enough) they were too polite 
to express disapproval, and would remain perfectly silent. 
We used to hear them singing and whistling our songs 
when they went home. We amused ourselves often try- 
ing them with music they couldn't possibly know — plan- 
tation songs or amateur music which had never been 
published. We would sing them one evening; the next 
they would come back and sing all our songs perfectly 
well (no words, of course). They had an extraordinary 
musical facility. Often when we stopped, or on some of 
the rare occasions when we didn't do any music, they 
would sing some of their songs — many of them ending 
on a long, sustained note quite charming. 

It was pleasant to recall all the " tempi passati." We 
lingered a few moments at the top of the Spanish Steps, 
quite deserted at this hour of the evening, and when he 
left me at the door of the hotel I had barely time to talk 
a little to W. before dressing for dinner. He was rather 
wondering what had become of me. He had had a de- 
lightful afternoon with his friends. They had walked 
along the banks of the Tiber on the way to Ostia. He 
says there are all sorts of interesting things to be found 



174 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

there — tombs, bits of Roman wall and pavements, traces 
of old quays, and subterraneous passages all mixed up 
with modern improvements. The City of Rome is spend- 
ing a great deal of money in building new quays, bridges, 
etc., on a most elaborate and expensive scale. I should 
think the sluggish old Tiber would hardly know itself 
flowing between such energetic, busy banks. 

They drove out for some distance on the road to Ostia, 
but only got as far as the Monte di San Paolo (I think), 
from where they had a fine view of the sea, and the pine 
forests. I am sorry they hadn't time to go on, but we 
must leave something for the next time. I wonder when 
it will be. 

Gert's dinner was pleasant — Mrs. Bruce, Comte Palfy, 
Father Smith, and Mr. Hooker. They all talked hard. 
Mr. Hooker has lived so many years in Rome that he 
has seen all its transformations ; says the present busy, 
brilliant capital is so unlike the old Rome of his days that 
he can hardly believe it is the same place. It is incred- 
ible that a whole city should have lived so many years in 
such absolute submission to the Papal Government. In 
those days there were only two newspapers, each re- 
vised at the Vatican and nothing allowed to appear in 
either that wasn't authorized by the papal court ; also the 
government exercised a paternal right over the jeunesse 
doree, and when certain fair ladies with yellow hair and 
elaborate costumes appeared in the Villa Borghese, or on 
the Pincio, exciting great admiration in all the young 
men of the place (and filling the mammas and wives with 
horror), it was merely necessary to make a statement to 
the Vatican. The dangerous stranger was instantly 
warned that she must cross the frontier. 

Palfy, too, remembered Rome in the old days, when 
the lone drix'e alone the Riviera in an old-fashioned trav- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 175 

elling carriage (before railways were known in these 
parts) was a thing planned and arranged months before- 
hand — one such journey was made in a hfe-time. He 
said the Httle villages where they stopped were something 
awful ; not the slightest idea of modern comfort or clean- 
hness. The ladies travelled with a retinue of servants, 
taking with them sheets, mattresses, washing materials 
(there was a large heavy silver basin and jug which 
always travelled with his family) and batterie de cuisine; 
also very often a doctor, as one was afraid of fever 
or a bad chill, as of course any heating apparatus was 
most primitive. The Italians sat in the sun all day 
and went to bed when it was dark and cold. One saw 
the country and the people much better in that way. 
Now we fly through at night in an express train, and the 
Rome we see to-day might be Paris, Vienna, or any mod- 
ern capital. I mean, of course, inside the walls. As soon 
as one gets out of the gates and on the Campagna one 
feels as if by instinct all the dead past of the great city. 

I told them that in our time, wdien we lived one sum- 
mer in the Villa Marconi at Frascati, the arrangements 
were most primitive. The palace was supposed to be 
furnished, but as the furniture consisted chiefly of marble 
statues, benches, and baths — also a raised garden on a 
level with the upper rooms, opening out of the music- 
room, the door behind an enormous white marble statue 
of some mythological celebrity — it didn't seem very hab- 
itable to our practical American minds. There were 
beds and one or two wash-stands, also curtains in one 
room, but as for certain intimate domestic arrangements 
they didn't exist ; and when we ventured to suggest that 
they were indispensable to our comfort we were told, " I 
principi romani non domandono altro " (Roman princes 
don't ask for anything more). 



176 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

Heavens, how funny all the pourparlers were. Fanny * 
did all the talking, as we were still too new to the 
language to embark upon a business conversation. Her 
mother, who was an excellent maitresse de maison, gave 
all the directions, which were most particular and de- 
tailed, as she was very anxious we should be comforta- 
ble, and very doubtful as to the resources of the estab- 
lishment. The agent was visibly agace and impatient. 
Fanny had on a pair of tortoise-shell star ear-rings, 
and the man told one of our friends afterward that 
" quella piccola colle stellette " (the young girl with the 
little stars) was a real " diavolo." It was funny to 
hear her beginning every sentence " Dice la signora " 
(madame says), and saying exactly what her mother 
told her ; the mother, standing near, understanding every 
word, though she couldn't say anything, and looking hard 
at the agent. He understood her, too. However, we 
didn't get any more than the Roman princes had, and 
made our own arrangements as well as we could, having 
out a large van of furniture of all kinds from Rome. 

Hooker remembered it all well, as he found the house 
for us and had many misgivings as to how we should get 
along. He was always keeping us straight in a financial 
point of view, as even then, before the days of the enor- 
mous American fortunes, Americans were careless about 
money, and didn't mind paying, and paying well, for 
what they wanted. In those days, too, it was rather 
cheap living in Italy, and we were so surprised often by 
the prices of the mere necessaries of life that we couldn't 
help expressing our astonishment freely. Poor Hooker 
was much disgusted. " You might as well ask them to 
cheat you." We learned better, however, later, particu- 

* Miss Fanny King, daughter of General Rufus King, United States 
Minister to the Vatican, now Mrs. Edward Ward. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 177 

larly after several visits to Naples, where the first price 
asked for anything was about five times as much as the 
vender expected to get. " Le tout c'est de savoir." 

Father Smith and W. got on swimmingly. It is too 
funny to see them together. The father's brogue is de- 
lightful and comes out strong whenever he talks about 
anything that interests him. He has such a nice twinkle, 
too, in his eye when he tells an Irish story or makes a 
little joke. I must say I am very sorry to go. It has 
been a real pleasure to be back again in Rome and to take 
up so many threads of my old life. I find Italians de- 
lightful to live with ; they are so absolutely natural and 
unsnobbish — no pose of any kind ; not that they under- 
rate themselves and their great historic names, but they 
are so simple and sure of themselves that a pose would 
never occur to them. Father Smith asked us a great deal 
about the German Crown Princess. He had never seen 
her, but had the greatest admiration for her character and 
intelligence — " a worthy daughter of her great mother " 
— thought it a pity that such a woman couldn't have re- 
mained in her own country, though he didn't see very 
well how it could have been managed. He doesn't at 
all approve of royal princesses marrying subjects. I 
think he is right — certainly democratic princes are a mis- 
take. There should always be an idea of state — ermine 
and royal purple — connected with royalties. I remem- 
ber quite well my disappointment at the first sovereign 
I saw. It was the Emperor of Austria coming out of his 
palace at Vienna. We had been loitering about, sight- 
seeing, and as we passed the Hof-Burg evident tourists, 
some friendly passers-by told us to stop a moment and 
we would see the Emperor, who was just driving out of 
the gates. When I saw a victoria with a pair of horses 
drive out with two gentlemen in very simple uniform, one 



178 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

bowing mechanically to the few people who were waiting, 
I was distinctly disappointed. I don't suppose I expected 
to see a monarch arrayed in ermine robes, with a crown 
on his head and a sceptre in his hand, but all the same it 
was a disillusion. Of course when one sees them at 
court, or at some great function, with brilliant uniforms, 
grand cordon, and diamond stars, they are more impos- 
ing. I don't know, though, whether that does make a 
difference. Do you remember one of A.'s stories? He 
was secretary to the British Embassy at Washington, and 
at one of the receptions at the White House (which 
are open receptions — all the world can go) all the corps 
diplomatique were present in the full glory of ribbons 
and plaques. He heard some one in the crowd saying, 
*' What are all these men dressed up in gold lace and 
coloured ribbons? " The answer came after a moment's 
reflection, " I guess it's the band." 

I don't think I can write any more to-night. I seem 
to be rambling on without anything much to say. If I 
could tell you all I am doing it w^ould be much pleas- 
anter. A pen seems to paralyze me and I feel a mantle 
of dulness settle down on me as soon as I take one in my 
hand. You will have to let me talk hard the first three 
or four days after I get home, and be the good listener 
you always are to your children. 

It is a beautiful bright night, the sky almost as blue 
as in the day, and myriads of stars. The piazza is quite 
deserted. It is early, not yet 10.40, but the season is 
over, all the forestieri gone, and Rome is sinking back 
into its normal state of sleepiness and calm. How many 
times I have looked out on the piazza on just such a night 
(from Casa Pierret, our old house just next door) ! It 
is the one place that hasn't changed in Rome. I almost 
feel as if I must go to bed at once, so as to be up early 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 179 

and in my habit for a meet at Cecilia Metella to-morrow 
morning. I do start to-morrow, but not very early — at 
ten. I have a line from Mary Bunsen this evening saying 
they will meet me at the station in Florence to-morrow. 
I shall arrive for dinner. I am half sorry now I didn't 
decide to go to Naples, after all. The weather is divine, 
and I should have liked to have another look at that 
beautiful bay, with its blue dancing water, and Capri and 
Ischia in the distance. We had had visions of Sicily, 
prolonging our stay another fortnight, Init W. is rather 
worrying now to get home. He had a letter from Rich- 
ard yesterday, telling him to be sure and come back for 
the Conseil General. 

There were two amusing articles in the papers the 
other day, one saying M. Waddington had been charged 
by the French Government with a delicate and confiden- 
tial mission to the Pope ; two days after, in another paper, 
a denial and most vicious attack on W., saying M. Wad- 
dington had evidently inspired the first article himself, 
that he had been charged with no mission of any kind, 
and they knew from private sources that he would not 
even be received by the Pope. I daresay a great many 
people believe both. W. naturally doesn't care — doesn't 
pay the least attention to what any paper says. I am 
getting hardened, too, though the process has been longer 
with me. I don't mind a good vicious article from an 
opposition paper — that is " de bonne guerre " — but the 
little perfidious insinuations of the so-called friendly sheets 
which one can't notice (and which always leave a trace) 
are very irritating. 

W. has just come up. He lingered talking in the 
smoking-room with two Englishmen who have just ar- 
rived from Brindisi, and were full of India and all " the 
muddles our government is making," asking him if he 



i8o ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

wasn't disgusted as an Englishman at all the mistakes 
and stupidities they were making out there. They were 
so surprised when he said that he wasn't an Englishman 
that it was funny ; and when he added that he was a 
Frenchman they really didn't know what he meant. He 
didn't explain his personality (I suppose the man of the 
hotel enlightened them afterward), but stayed on talking, 
as the men were clever and had seen a great deal. They 
had made a long tour in India, and said the country was 
most interesting. The ruins — also modern palaces — on 
such a gigantic scale. 

Well, dear, I really must finish now. My next letter 
will be from Florence. We shall stop at Milan and 
Turin, but not very long, I fancy, unless W. finds mar- 
vels in the way of coins at Milan. I am quite sad to think 
I shan't look out on the piazza to-morrow night. I think 
after all these years I still hold to my original opinion 
that the Corso is the finest street and the Tiber the finest 
river in the world. 

To H. L. K. 

Milan, Hotel de Ville, 
Thursday, May 6, 1880. 

Here we are, dearest mother, almost home — only 26 
hours from Paris — so if we are suddenly called back (and 
I earnestly hope we shan't be) we can start at once. We 
made our journey most comfortably yesterday, though 
it was long. We left Florence at 9 in the morning and 
didn't get here until nearly 8. The Bunsens came with 
us to the station. I begged them not to at such an 
early hour but they didn't mind. It would have been 
nice to stay longer. They have just taken their villa 
on for another month. Their gardener at Meingeniigen 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE i8i 

wrote them that it was snowing and a cold wind — hor- 
rid weather; so they instantly decided to stay on an- 
other month. My belle-mere is delicate and never could 
have stood a cold, northern spring after this beautiful 
month of April here. They tried to tempt us with all 
sorts of excursions — Vallombrosa, Pisa (which I should 
like to see again, I have such a vivid recollection of the 
Campo Santo and some of the extraordinary tombs, 
wide square courts and painted windows). I don't re- 
member if it was there or at Genoa, where we saw such 
elaborate modern monuments; the marble carved and 
draped in the most curious manner — a widow kneeling 
at her husband's tomb, her skirts all embroidered and 
carved so finely, like lace, and a lace veil — really extraor- 
dinary. 

We found a long train at the station — the night express 
from Rome. The prefet had kept a compartment for 
us, and Ubaldino Peruzzi, the former sindaco, a great 
friend of W.'s. went with us as far as Pistoja. Minghetti 
was on the train, and he came into our compartment for 
about an hour, but then adjourned to his own carriage as 
he was composing a great political speech he makes at 
Bologna to-night. They are all much excited over the 
elections, which take place Sunday week, so their time 
is short. Minghetti has lived and fought through so 
many phases of Italian history that he is most interesting. 
They say his memory is extraordinary — so accurate. He 
never forgets a face or a speech. He says whenever he 
has an important speech to make he goes for a drive 
or a long walk — the movement helps him. W. is just 
the contrary. His great speeches (and they were not 
many) have always been composed sitting in his big arm- 
chair smoking the beloved old cherry-wood pipe Segur 
brought him from Jersey. When he had got his speech 



1 82 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

quite in his head^, he wrote it, and then it went straight on 
— never a correction or an erasure. I asked Minghetti if 
he was nervous. He said not in tlie least — he was always 
ready for the fray, and the more he was interrupted the 
better he spoke, as that proved they were listening to him. 

I remember so well one of the first days I went to the 
Assemblee Nationale years ago. Somebody was speak- 
ing — apparently well — on some question of the day, and 
nobody was listening. The deputies were walking about, 
talking, writing letters, just as if there was nothing go- 
ing on. I looked down to see if W. was listening, but 
he was talking cheerfully to Leon Say. It seemed to me 
incredible that the orator could continue under such cir- 
cumstances, but W. explained it to me. He was speak- 
ing for his electors in the country and for the " Journal 
Officiel," which would publish his speech in extcnso the 
next day. 

It was most interesting making the journey with these 
gentlemen as they had their history at their finger ends. 
All that part of the country had been so fought over — 
oceans of blood shed in the fierce struggle against Aus- 
trian tyranny — particularly as we got near Milan. It 
seems incredible what a hard iron rule theirs was — 
especially if one knows Austria and the Austrians a little. 
They seem such an easy-going, happy people. All their 
little villages look clean and prosperous, the peasants 
cheerful and singing and civil to all strangers and trav- 
ellers. 

The country we passed through to-day looked green 
and smiling, but their idea of work is still primitive, even 
in Northern Italy. Wherever we passed the people in 
the fields all stopped and looked at the train — many came 
running up the bank. If they do that for every train 
they must lose a considerable amount of time. We were 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 183 

very sorry when our companions departed, but at every 
station almost Minghetti met friends, and it was evident 
that he had his head full of politics. It is a long time 
since I have met any one so interesting. It is such a 
quick intelligence and he touches every subject so lightly, 
apparently, only one feels he knows all about it. 

We made a fair stop at the Bologna station and had a 
very good breakfast. It recalled so vividly old times and 
our first journeys to Rome. Even the buffet looked ex- 
actly the same. I could have sworn there was the same 
" fricandeau de veau." The buffet was crowded — it seems 
there were a lot of Indian officers arriving with their fami- 
lies from Brindisi, with dark turbaned servants and ayahs 
always in v^^hite. However the Indian nurses didn't look 
so miserable as they used to in winter when w^e first made 
the journey down. They were rather bewildered all the 
same in such a jostling, hurrying crowd. It is funny to 
see how they cling to their charges, holding the babies 
tight with one hand and guiding one or two others half 
hidden in their long white draperies, with the other. I 
am sure they are excellent, faithful nurses. 

Our last days in Florence were very full. Tuesday was 
the day of the races — bright, beautiful weather — and we 
drove out to see the retour, stationing ourselves at the 
entrance of the Cascine until 7 o'clock. There was not 
much to see in the way of equipages — nothing like the 
Roman turn-outs — but there were some pretty women. 
The Comtesse Mirafiori (nee Larderel), I daresay you 
will remember the name, was about the prettiest. Fler 
victoria was very well appointed, handsome horses step- 
ping perfectly ; and she looked a picture, all in white with 
a big hat turned up with dark blue and long blue and 
yellow feathers. I think a woman never looks better than 
in a victoria — it shows off the dress and figure so well. 



1 84 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

Lottie, too, looked very well, but she passed so quickly I 
couldn't see what she had on. I had an impression of 
white with some pink in her hat. Almost all the women 
were in white. Of course the Lungarno was crowded — 
all the loungers taking the most lively interest in the car- 
riages; and when there was a stop criticising freely — 
but I must say with their natural Italian politeness, con- 
fining themselves to expressions of admiration more or 
less pronounced — never anything disagreeable. 

We had a mild reception in the evening. Various 
friends came to say good-bye — Maquays, Peruzzis. Miss 
Forbes and one or two men. A scientific German — I for- 
get his name — who told W. it would take weeks to 
see all the coins and interesting things of all kinds at 
the Milan Museum. We are very comfortable here; the 
hotel is old-fashioned with a nice open court, and the 
rooms good. We have a pretty apartment on the front, 
and as it is on the main thoroughfare, Corso Vittorio 
Emanuele, we see all that goes on. There is a church 
opposite — San Carlo, I believe — and we are not far from 
the Piazza del Duomo. 

We went for a little stroll last night after dinner, just 
for W. to smoke his cigar. The Cathedral looked splen- 
did — a gigantic white mass in the midst of the busy 
square, quantities of people in the streets and sitting at 
all the cafes, of which there are hundreds — quite like the 
Paris boulevards on a summer night — everybody talking 
and laughing and a cheerful sound of clinking glasses. I 
think they were almost all drinking beer — a great many 
uniforms — I suppose there is a large garrison. There 
seemed very few foreigners — we heard nothing but Ital- 
ian spoken — so unlike Rome and even Florence where one 
heard always so much English in the streets and the 
shops. They told me in Florence that there was a large 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 185 

English colony there, living quite apart from the fashion- 
able world — children learning music, or some of the 
family delicate, needing a mild climate and sunshine — 
more perhaps in the villas close to the gates than in the 
town itself. I should think the cutting wind that sweeps 
the Lungarno would be mortal to weak chests; but up 
in the hills sheltered by the high walls and olive groves 
one would be quite protected. Certainly the other day 
on the terrace of Castello the sun was divine and the air 
soft and balmy, not a sign of chill or damp — but it was 
the month of May — the month for Florence. 

This morning I have been unpacking — or rather 
Madame Hubert has — and settling myself in my salon, 
making the two corners — feminine and masculine — as I 
did in Rome. I have no convenient Palazzo Altemps to 
help me out with cushions, screens, etc., but I found lovely 
flowers which the landlord (who received us in dress 
clothes and his hat in his hand) put there, and as he was 
very civil and pleased to have the " Excellenza " and 
hoped I would ask for anything I wanted, I have asked 
for and obtained an arm-chair, and suggested he should 
give me a simple table-cover instead of the beautiful 
green velvet one, embroidered with pink roses, which 
now ornaments my salon. With my careless way of writ- 
ing and facility for putting ink all over myself, even in 
my hair, I am afraid that w^ork of art would be seriously 
deteriorated. He sent up this morning to know if I 
wanted my breakfast upstairs — if I would come down he 
would reserve me a small table in the window. I shall 
go down — I hate meals in a sitting-room and I should 
like to see what sort of people there are in the hotel. 



1 86 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

lo o'clock. 

I will go on to-night while W. is putting his papers in 
order. I breakfasted alone downstairs about 12. The 
dining-room is a large, handsome room across the court. 
There were very few people — not more than four tables 
occupied — a large English family with troops of fair- 
haired children — girls in white frocks and long black 
stockings and boys in Eton coats. They all looked about 
the same age, but I suppose they weren't. They were 
very quiet and well-behaved, quite unlike any of our small 
relations, I have vivid recollections of travelling with 
some of them — all talking at once at the top of their 
lungs, " Pa, give me a penny," " Pa, give me a cake," 
" Pa, what's that for? " etc. 

The reading-room opened out of the dining-room, so 
I went in to have a look at the papers — found a " Debats " 
and the " Times," and read up all that was going on in the 
fashionable and political world. W. came in about 4 — 
he had ordered a carriage for 4.30, and as it was a lovely 
afternoon we thought we would drive about the streets a 
little and out into the country. He had had a delightful 
morning — says the Museum is most interesting — the 
cabinet de medailles a marvel. He has arranged to go 
there every day at 10 o'clock — will work there until 3, 
then come back for me and we shall have our afternoon. 
He is much pleased with this arrangement but he doesn't 
think the employees of the cabinet de medailles will find 
it quite so satisfactory, as some one must always be with 
him. They never leave any one alone in these rooms. 
He thinks there are only two people for this service, and 
they will naturally hate spending a long day doing noth- 
ing while he studies and copies. 

The Directeur received him to-day most enthusiasti- 
cally — knew all about his collection of coins. 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 187 

We started out about 5 and went first to have a cup 
of tea at the cafe the padrone recommended — Cova, I 
think — and then told the man to drive about the streets 
and pass the principal buildings. We saw the Duomo 
again, the Scala (theatre) — if it is open we shall go one 
night ; the great Galerie Victor Emmanuel, full of shops ; 
and quantities of churches, Santa Maria delle Grazie, 
of course, where is the famous " Cenacolo " of Leonardo 
da Vinci, but the outside merely. The fresco is only 
visible until 4 — so we shall see the inside of the church 
another day. We made a turn in the public gardens or 
promenade where there were quite a number of handsome 
carriages and saddle horses — many officers riding. It 
was rather late to attempt a country drive (we had said 
we would dine downstairs at 7.30), for the turning and 
twisting about in the streets and stopping every now and 
then had taken up a good deal of time. Wc had a nice 
little victoria with a pair of horses, not unlike the car- 
riage Tomba gave us in Rome. 

We went down about a quarter to eight. The 
padrone in his dress clothes was waiting at the foot of 
the stairs and conducted us with much pomp into the 
dining-room, where we found a nice round table in the 
window. The room was quite full — many more people 
than in the morning, and I should think almost all 
Italians. They looked at us naturally with much curi- 
osity, as such a fuss was made with us. W. smoked a 
cigar in the court after dinner and talked to the man of 
the house who told him about all the distinguished people 
he had had in his hotel. I found papers and a " Graphic " 
in the reading-room and was quite surprised when they 
said it was 10 o'clock. 



1 88 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

May 7th. 

It has been pouring all day — straight down. I think 
it has stopped a little since dinner. We didn't stay long 
in the reading-room as W. is fairly launched in his coins 
now and puts his notes in order in the evening. I prowled 
this morning with Madame Hubert. Before breakfast 
we went to the Brera. It was almost empty but we found 
a nice guide, a youngish man, speaking such beauti- 
ful Italian that it was a pleasure to hear him. and 
well up on all the pictures. There are beautiful things, 
certainly. I was so glad to see some old friends. I was 
always so fond of the " Amanti Veneziani " of Paris 
Bordone. The " sposo " looks so young and straight and 
proud, and the girl's attitude is charming, her brown- 
gold head drooping on her lover's shoulder as she holds 
out her hand for the ring he is putting on her finger. 
Even the inferior pictures of the Paul Veronese school 
are fine — there is such an intensity of colour. The whole 
room seemed filled with light and warmth. I think I 
like the backgrounds and accessories almost as much as 
the figures. The draperies are so wonderfully done, one 
can almost touch the gorgeous stuffs, heavy with gold 
and silver embroidery; and there are one or two-high- 
backed, carved arm-chairs which are a marvel. The 
beautiful fair women with strings of pearls in their golden 
hair, and white satin dresses, sitting up straight and 
slight in the dark wooden chairs, are fascinating; and 
there are quantities, for Paul Veronese and all his pupils 
have always so many people in their pictures. 

We saw of course the " Sposalizia " in a small room 
quite by itself. The Virgin is a beautifully slight ethereal 
figure with the marvellous pure face that all Raphael's 
Madonnas have; but the St. Joseph looks younger than 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 189 

in most other pictures. Our guide was most enthusiastic 
over the picture. It was a treat to hear him say — 
" morbidezza " and " dolcissimo." We were there about 
an hour and a half, and that was quite long enough. 
One's eyes get tired. We saw splendid portraits of 
princes and warriors as we passed through the rooms — 
Moretto, Leonardo da Vinci and others. 

It was still raining when we came out so we thought 
we wouldn't attempt any more sight-seeing, and walked 
up to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele where we were 
under cover. The Cathedral looked splendid — all the 
white pinnacles and statues standing out from the dark 
grey sky. We looked in at all the shop windows, but 
didn't see anything particularly striking or local except 
the black lace veils which so many women (not the upper 
classes) wear here. Madame Hubert being young and 
pretty was most anxious to adopt that fashion — thought 
it would be more suitable for Madame as all the suivantes 
here wore the veil — she would be less remarked going 
about with Madame — but Madame decidedly preferred 
the plain little black bonnet of the Parisian femme de 
chambre. It seems there is a swell Italian woman in the 
hotel — a Princess — whose maid always wears a veil when 
she accompanies her mistress in her walks abroad. 

I was decidedly damp when I got back to the hotel. I 
breakfasted alone at my little table, and in fact was almost 
alone in the dining-room — there were only two other 
tables occupied. The head waiter was very sympathetic 
about the weather — they always had sun in Milan, just 
a mauvaise chance to-day. I had the reading-room also 
to myself, and found plenty of papers in all languages. 
I have rather a weakness for the " Kolnische Zeitung " 
(Gazette de Cologne). It is very anti-French, or I might 
really say anti-everything, as it is always pitching into 



I90 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

somebody, but there is a good deal of general information 
in it. 

W. came in about 3.30, having worked steadily since 9. 
It was getting too dark to see much more and his at- 
tendant beamed when he saw him putting up his papers 
and preparing to leave. He says the man is bored to 
death — wants to talk at first and explain things to him, 
but he soon realizes that W. is bent on serious work, so he 
desists and reads a paper and walks about the room and 
fidgets generally. 

We waited until 4.30 hoping the rain would stop. It 
didn't, but the clouds lightened a little and we thought 
we would go and see the Duomo. I had forgotten how 
beautiful it is — those great wide aisles quite bare^ — no 
chairs, nothing to break the line until quite at the high 
altar, and the light from the old glass windows coming 
from so high over our heads it seemed straight from 
heaven. We sat some little time in one of the side 
chapels. It looked vast and mysterious — one had such 
an impression of space and height. Various guides came 
up and supposed we would not care to go up on the 
roof on such an afternoon. We told them we would 
come back the next day if it was fine. They looked so 
disappointed at having nothing that we finally went down 
into the crypt to see the tomb and body of San Carlo Bor- 
romeo. We had both seen it before but I didn't mind 
reviving my souvenirs. We had tapers of course as it 
was quite dark, but we saw quite well the coloured 
marbles and precious stones of the little chapel — also the 
body of the Saint, marvellously preserved. It looked 
very small — hardly the size of a grown man. The guide 
of course wanted to show us all sorts of relics, and the 
tresor of the Cathedral, but we preferred going up again 
to the church, and wandered about looking at the mar- 



OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 



191 



ble tombs and monuments — there are not many, and 
they are quite lost in the enormous building. Quite 
down at the bottom of the church, near the door under a 
baldaquin, is a font in porphyry, said to be the sarcopha- 
gus of some saint. The church looked immense as it 
grew darker and the light gradually faded, leaving deep 
shadows everywhere. When we turned back, just as we 
were going out, to have a last glimpse, the high altar 
seemed far away, and the tall candles looked like twink- 
ling lights seen through a mist or veil. 

We walked about a little under the arcades. W. 
wanted some cigars and I an Italian book Minghetti had 
recommended to me, " Sketches of Life in Milan and 
Venice under the Austrian Occupation." I have been 
reading it a little to-night — what an awful life for 
Italians — a despotic, iron rule, police and spies every- 
where, women even making their way into the great 
Italian houses and reporting everything to the police — 
the children's games and little songs, the books and 
papers the family read, the visits they received. The 
most arbitrary measures prevailed — no young man al- 
lowed to leave the city — no papers nor books allowed that 
were not authorized by the government — and when ar- 
rests were made, the prisoners, men or women, treated 
most cruelly. The Austrians must have felt the hatred 
and thirst for vengeance that was smouldering in all 
these young hearts. It seems all the girls and young 
women, even of the poorest classes, made themselves 
flags (tricolour) out of bits of anything (paper when they 
couldn't get anything better) and gave them to all the 
men, preparing for the " Cinque giorni " when many of 
them went down under the Austrian bayonets, giving 
their lives cheerfully and proudly for their country. 
Radetzsky must have been a monster of cruelty. How 



192 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

they must hate the white uniform and the black and 
yellow flag. 

The city is quiet enough to-night. I suppose it is not 
an opera night. It is only half-past ten and we are on 
one of the principal thoroughfares, but nothing is passing 
in the street. The hotel, too, is quiet, one doesn't hear 
a sound. I fancy most travellers go to the new hotel — 
the Cavour. We are quite satisfied here, and are most 
comfortable — the landlord very attentive. He and W. 
are becoming great friends — they talk politics (Italian) 
every night while W. smokes. 

Friday 7 th. 
I see I shall always write at night. After coffee and 
half an hour in the reading-room (I always go and have 
a look at the papers while W. smokes) we come upstairs. 
W. plunges at once into his notes, and I read and write. 
It has been lovely to-day and we have had a nice after- 
noon. W. came home to breakfast at i, as he wanted 
to see the Brera and " Cenacolo " once again ; and it is of 
course too late w^ien we start for our afternoon drive at 
4.30. We walked to the Brera — it isn't far — and were 
there a long time. We made a long stop in the vestibule 
looking at the Luini frescoes — all scenes in the Virgin's 
life — Madonnas, angels, saints — quantities of figures, 
and colours and accessories of all kinds — wonderful trees 
and buildings and clouds with angels and seraphim ris- 
ing out of them. They must have had marvellous imagi- 
nations, those early Italian painters. They never saw 
anything to suggest such pictures to them, and of course 
never read anything — there were no books to read — 
merely written manuscripts difficult enough for scholars 
to decipher. All the wonderful scenes — Nativity. Coro- 
nation, etc. — evoked out of their own brains. I think I 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE [93 

like the Annunciation the best of ah the scenes of the 
Virgin's hfe. There is a beautiful one in the Pitti — I 
forget now by whom — the Virgin just risen from her 
chair with a half-dazed, half-triumphant look, and the 
angel kneeling before her with his lily. I like some of 
the German ones, too, but they are much more elaborate 
— the Virgin often standing in a wide arch — a portico — 
more figures in the background — and the Virgin herself 
quite a German girl — not at all the lovely, spiritual head 
of the Italian masters. 

We walked through all the rooms. The Venetian 
pictures (Paul Veronese school) looked beautiful. W., 
too, was struck with the splendid colouring. Some of 
the names quite unknown, and if one looked too closely 
there were perhaps faults of drawing and exaggeration of 
colour, but the effect was extraordinary. He admired the 
men's portraits excessively, by Titian, Tintoretto, Moroni, 
etc. They are very fine — sometimes a soldier with keen, 
hard eyes, clad in complete armour — often a noble, some 
grand seigneur of his time, in black velvet and fur with 
jewelled cap and chain, a fine patrician head and thought- 
ful face. We didn't see the young guide who went about 
with me — I was rather sorry — I wanted W. to hear his 
beautiful Italian. 

We stayed so long looking at everything (Luini's 
pictures are most interesting, too — he must have had an 
extraordinary capacity for work) that we had just time 
to get a cab and drive over to Santa Maria delle Grazie 
to see the " Cenacolo " as it shuts at 4. The Saviour's 
head, St. John, and some of the other faces are beautiful 
— but it is so faded (and on the other hand has been 
touched up a little) that I was disappointed. 

It was a beautiful bright afternoon and we saw as well 
as possible, but really " decay's effacing fingers " have 



194 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

been allowed too much sway. They told us it was im- 
possible to guard against the damp, and that eventually 
the whole thing would be blotted out. However, it has 
stood the test pretty well through all these years. 

We went into the church, which was quite empty, ex- 
cept one figure in black, absorbed and motionless, kneel- 
ing on the stone pavement. Poor woman, I hope she got 
what she was praying for so earnestly. From there we 
went to the church of St. Ambrogio, which is a fine 
old building — the frescoes and inscriptions much faded. 
The iron crown used to be kept there (they told us the 
Kings and Emperors came there to be crowned) but it is 
now at Monza. I declined any more churches and regu- 
lar sight-seeing after that — so w^e went back to the hotel 
where the carriage was to meet us, went for our cup 
of tea to Cova's, and then started for a drive. 

The country quite around the city is not particularly 
interesting — much cultivated, but flat — vineyards, corn 
and rice fields all intersected with numberless little canals. 
Though it was late, 6 o'clock, people were still work- 
ing in the fields and seemed to keep to their work much 
more steadily than the peasants about Rome and Florence 
who were always stopping to talk or look at whatever 
was passing. We met bands of them trooping along the 
road — they were generally tall, broad-shouldered, strong 
men — quite the northern type. We crossed some sol- 
diers, too — cavalry and infantry — quite a big detachment 
— all had their kits, and baggage wagons following. They 
were evidently changing garrison. I didn't think the 
troops looked very smart. The horses were small and 
very thin, and the men (infantry particularly) dragged 
along and were rather dirty. Just as they passed us the 
music struck up a sort of quick march, and it was curious 
to see the instantaneous effect. The men straightened 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 195 

themselves up, moved more quickly and lightly — it was 
quite different. 

I hoped we should get a view of the mountains, but the 
sunset, though beautiful, was rather misty — however the 
coachman told us that meant fine weather for to-morrow 
which will be nice as we are going up on the top of the 
Cathedral. I was glad to have a little rest before din- 
ner. I plunged again into my book, which is madly in- 
teresting — but such horrors — a long imprisonment like 
Silvio Pellico's was merciful compared to some of the 
tortures and cruelties — and it seems the Emperor himself 
was the hardest of all — never forgetting nor pardoning 
nor listening to any petition or prayer for mercy — no 
wonder the people were infuriated — mad with rage — 
women and children working at he barricades during the 
" five days " ; and the old ones, too infirm to take an 
active part, at the windows pouring down boiling water 
and oil on the Austrian soldiers. However, I suppose it 
is the history of all street fighting. I remember the 
hideous tales they told us of the Paris Commune, when 
we went back there after the war — how maddened the 
Versaillais were at the shots, missiles and boiling water 
which came from all the windows upon them. The re- 
prisals were terrible when the regular troops finally got 
the upper hand — and I suppose no one will ever know 
how many innocent people were shot in the first flush of 
success. 

I read out bits of my book to W. He said he didn't 
think the account exaggerated — of course they had chosen 
all the worst cases. He was at Versailles during the 
Commune, and saw the first batches of prisoners brought 
in — such awful looking people — many young, very young 
men, with wild reckless faces. They probably didn't know, 
half of them, what they had been fighting for — a vague 



196 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

idea of patrie and liberty, and the natural love of the 
Parisian gamin for a row and a barricade. 



To H. L. K. 

Milan, Hotel de Ville, 
May 9, 1880. 

We have had an awiu. day, dear mother, pouring 
steady rain since early morning — clouds grey and low 
shutting out the city entirely; really so dark I could 
hardly see to dress — and the streets apparently deserted. 
W. didn't mind, and w'as off as usual to his coins at 9 
o'clock. He did have a remords de conscience at leav- 
ing me all alone all day shut up in a little hotel salon, and 
said if I would come and get him about 3 we would try 
and see something. 

I wrote two letters which will rather amuse the family 
as they say I only write when I am boring myself in the 
country or having a series of rainy days — ^Janet always 
calls them my rain letters. However, when I had writ- 
ten two my energy in that line was exhausted, and I felt 
I couldn't sit another moment in that dark salon, so I 
summoned Madame Hubert (I don't generally care to 
have a maid for a companion but I didn't like to walk 
about the streets of a foreign city alone) and we started 
off with short skirts and umbrellas. The gerant nearly 
fell off his high stool in the bureau when he saw me pre- 
paring to go out — wanted to send for a carriage, a fiacre, 
anything — but I told him I really wanted to walk, which 
filled him with amazement. Italians as a rule don't like 
walking at all, and he thought I was quite mad to go out 
deliberately, and for my pleasure, on such a day. 

It wasn't very pleasant in the streets — everybody's um- 
brella ran into me, and the pavements were wet and slip- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 197 

pery. We finally took refuge under the arcades, hut there 
we got quite as much jostled, for everybody who was out, 
was there ; and the sudden gusts of wind and rain around 
the corners and through the arches were anything but 
pleasant. I wasn't at all happy, but I liked it better than 
sitting in the room at the hotel. I was so draggled and 
my boots so covered with mud that I was rather ashamed 
to cross the big hall of the hotel when I came in. 

I found a letter from Gert saying she was so glad we 
had such delightful weather for Milan. I wish she could 
look out of my window at this moment. She wouldn't 
know if she were in Milan or Elizabethtown. The clouds 
are very low on the roofs of the houses — the city has dis- 
appeared in a mist, I can just see across the street. The 
pavements are swimming — quite rushing torrents in the 
gutters, and I look down upon a sea of umbrellas. 

I started out again about 3 — in a carriage this time — 
and went to get W. — extract him from his coins if I 
could. There was no one, apparently, in the Museum, 
but a smiling concierge took me to the antiquity and coin 
rooms where I found W. very busy and happy; quite in- 
sensible to rain or any outside considerations. He said 
the light wasn't very good. A musty old savant with 
a long ragged beard and very bright black eyes was keep- 
ing him company. He was delighted to see me, for he 
knew that meant stopping work for that afternoon. I 
talked to him a little while W. was putting his papers 
in order, and it was evident he had never seen any one 
with such a capacity for steady work. He encouraged 
us very much to go and see something (anything that 
would take us out of the coin room) but we really didn't 
know what to do with ourselves — a country drive w^asn't 
inviting and it was too dark and late for pictures — all the 
galleries close at 4. The padrone had recommended 



198 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

the flower show to us in the pubHc gardens, so we thought 
we would try that. The flowers were all under glass and 
tents, so we were dry overhead, but the ground was wet 
and muddy — a general damp, chilly feeling everywhere. 
I am sure the place is lovely on a bright summer day. 
There are fine trees, splendid horse chestnuts, pretty 
paths and little bosquets. The poor flowers looked 
faded and drooping, even under cover. The roses were 
splendid — such enormous ones with quantities of leaves, 
very full. The finest were " Reine Marguerite," " Mar- 
guerite de Savoie," " Princess de Piemont." I asked one 
of the gardeners if the Queen was very fond of flowers — 
the " Marguerite de Savoie " was a beautiful white rose. 
" Oh, yes," he said, enthusiastically, " the Queen loves 
flowers and everything that is beautiful." I thought it 
such a pretty answer. He showed us, with great pride, 
a green rose. I can't say I admired it, but it Is so difficult 
and so expensive to produce that I don't think we shall 
see many. We walked about and looked at all the 
flowers. Some of the variegated leaves were very hand- 
some. There was a pink broad leaf with a dull green 
border and an impossible name I should have liked to take 
away, but the man said it was an extremely delicate plant 
raised under glass — wouldn't live long in a room (which 
was what I wanted it for). We thought we would go 
back and have tea in a new place under the arcades — in 
the Galleria. The tea was bad — had certainly never seen 
China — as grown, I daresay, in the rice fields near the 
city, so we declined that and ordered chocolate, which 
was very good, and panettoni. W. was rather glad to 
have something to eat after his early breakfast. It was 
pouring, but we were quite sheltered in the corner of the 
veranda ; so he smoked and we looked at the people pass- 
ing and sitting near us. They were certainly not a very 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 199 

disinguished collection — a good many officers (in nni- 
form), loungers who might be anything — small function- 
aries, I should think — few women of any description, and 
no pretty ones. The peasant woman coming out of the 
fields was much better-looking than any we saw to-day. 

W. had had visitors in the coin room this morning. The 
Director, who came, he thinks, out of sheer curiosity to 
see how any one, for his pleasure, could work five or six 
hours at a time. He brought with him a Greek savant — 
a most intelligent young man who apparently knew W.'s 
collection almost as well as he did — and all the famous 
collections of Europe. They had a most interesting talk 
and discussion about certain doubtful coins of which 
3 Museums — London, Petersburg and Milan — claim to 
have the only originals. We talked over our plans, but I 
think we have still two or three more days here. We 
w^ant to go to Monza. They say the old towni and church 
are most interesting, as well as the Royal Villa. 

It was rather amusing in the reading-room after din- 
ner. There were many more people — women princi- 
pally, and English. Some of them had been buying 
things at the two famous bric-a-brac shops, and they were 
very much afraid they had paid too much, and been im- 
posed upon. They finally appealed to me (we had ex- 
changed papers and spoken a few words to each other) 
but I told them I was no good, nothing of a connoisseur 
for bric-a-brac, and particularly ignorant about lace. 
They showed it to me, and it looked very handsome — 
old Venetian, the man had told them. They had also 
some silver which they had bought at one of the little 
shops in the Piazza dei Mercanti. I think I wall go and 
see what I can find there. 

I found W. deep in his Paris courrier when I got 
upstairs. There was a heap of letters and papers, also 



200 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

Daudet's book " Souvenirs de la Presidence du Mare- 
chal de MacMahon " which TOncle Alphonse had sent us, 
said everybody was reading it at the clubs. W. figures 
in it considerably, not always in a very favourable light, 
as judged by Monsieur Daudet ; but facts speak for them- 
selves, even when the criticism is not quite fair. I sup- 
pose it is absolutely impossible for a Royalist to judge a 
moderate Republican impartially. I think they under- 
stand the out-and-out Radical better. The book is clever. 
I read out bits to W. (which, by the way, he hates — 
loathes being read to). It was interesting to read the 
life we had just been leading described by an outsider. 

I think W. will give himself a holiday to-morrow if it 
is fine (at the present moment, with the wind and 
rain beating against the windows, that seems a remote 
possibility). He will come back to breakfast and we 
will have our afternoon at Monza. I have finished my 
book of the Austrian rule, and I am really glad — the hor- 
rors quite haunted me. It seems incredible that in our 
days one Christian nation should have been allowed to 
treat another one so barbarously. I should like to go 
back to my childish days and read " Le mie Prigioni," but 
I found a life of Cavour downstairs in the hotel library, 
so I think I shall take that. 

May loth. 
It is lovely this morning (though when the weather 
changed I don't know, as it seemed to me I heard a steady 
downpour every time I woke in the night), however, at 
9 o'clock it was an ideal summer day, warm, a bright blue 
sky, no grey clouds or mist, one could hardly believe it 
was the same city. The atmosphere is so clear that the 
snow mountains seem almost at the bottom of the street. 
I went for a walk with Madame Hubert through the old 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 201 

parts of the city — such curious, narrow, twisting Httle 
streets. We went into the Duomo for a moment, it 
looked enormous — cool and dark except where a bright 
ray of sunshine came through the painted windows, but 
so subdued that it didn't seem real sunlight seen through 
all the marvellous coloured glass. There were a few peo- 
ple walking about in little groups, but they were lost in 
the great space. One didn't hear a sound — the silence 
was striking — there wasn't even the usual murmur of 
priest or chorister at the altar as there was no mass 
going on. 

We asked the way to the Piazza dei Mercanti on the 
other side of the Duomo. It is a curious old square — a 
very bad pavement, grass growing in places between the 
stones, and all sorts of queer, irregular buildings all 
around it — churches, palaces, porticos, gateways — a rem- 
nant of old Milan. At each end there w^ere little low 
shops where many people were congregated. I don't 
know if they were buying — I should think not as they 
seemed all rather seedy, impecunious individuals judging 
by their shabby, not to say worn-out garments — all Ital- 
ians — I think we were the only foreigners in the Piazza 
(yet it is one of the sights of Milan, mentioned in the 
guide books). We went, too, and looked at some of the 
things spread out for sale — many old engravings, carved 
wooden frames, gold and silver ornaments, and some 
handsome cups and flagons very elaborately worked — 
also some bits of old stuff, brocade, and a curious faded 
red velvet worked in gold, but all in very bad condition. I 
couldn't find a good piece large enough to make an ordi- 
nary cushion. In one corner, squatting in the sun, were 
two big, dark men with scarlet caps on their heads (they 
looked like Tunisians). They had muslins, spangled 
with gold and silver, crepe de Chine, and nondescript 



202 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

embroidered squares of white, soft silk with wonderful 
bright embroidery and designs — moons, and ships and 
trees. We spoke to them in French, but they didn't un- 
derstand, and answered us in some unintelligible jargon 
— half Italian, with a few English words thrown in. 

Some of the old palaces are fine, one in particular 
which seems to be a sort of bourse now. The portico 
was crowded with men, all talking at the top of their 
voices. We had glimpses through the crowd of a fine 
collection of broken columns, statues, tablets and bas- 
reliefs inside, but we didn't attempt to get in; though a 
friendly workman in the street, seeing us stopping and 
looking, evident strangers, told us we ought to go in and 
see 'Me bellezze " (the beautiful things). There is an 
equestrian statue on one side of the palace — I couldn't 
quite make out the name, but the inscription says that 
among other great deeds he " burnt many heretics." I 
don't suppose they gave his his statue exclusively on that 
account, but the fact was carefully mentioned. We 
wandered about rather aimlessly, leaving the Piazza, and 
finally found ourselves in a wide, handsome street — large 
palaces on one side and the canal running through the 
middle. The canal is really very picturesque — the water 
fairly clear, reflecting the curious, high, carved balconies 
and loggias (some of them covered with creepers and 
bright coloured flowers) that hang over the canal. They 
seemed all large houses, with the back giving on the 
canal ; some of the low doors opening straight out on the 
water were quite a reminder of Venice; and when there 
was a terrace with white marble balustrade and benches 
one could quite imagine some of Paul Veronese's beauti- 
ful, fair-haired women with their pearls and gorgeous 
red and gold garments disporting themselves there in the 
summer evenings. The palaces on the other side of the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 203 

street are fine, stately mansions — large doors open, show- 
ing great square courts, sometimes two or three stretch- 
ing far back — sometimes a fountain and grass plot in the 
middle — sometimes arcades running all around the court, 
with balconies and small pointed windows — coats-of-arms 
up over the big doors, but no signs of life — no magnifi- 
cent porters such as one sees in Rome in all the great 
houses. They all looked in perfectly good condition and 
well cared for. I wonder who lives in them. 

We came out at the Place Cavour and had a look at the 
statue, which is good — in bronze — an energetic standing 
figure with a fine head, very like — one would have recog- 
nised it anywhere from all the pictures one has always 
seen of Cavour. There is no group — he standing alone 
on a granite pedestal — a woman (Fame) kneeling, and 
writing his name on a scroll. I liked it very much — it 
is so simple, and we have seen so many allegorical groups 
and gods and goddesses lately that it was rather a relief 
to see anything quite plain and intelligible. 

I wasn't sorry to get back to the hotel and rest a little 
before starting again this afternoon. I liked walking 
through the little old crooked streets — they were not 
empty, there were people in all of them, but decidedly of 
the poorer classes. They are a naturally polite, sympa- 
thetic race — always smiling if you ask anything and al- 
ways moving to one side to let you pass — unlike the stolid 
German who calmly and massively takes the middle of the 
pavement and never dreams of moving to one side, or 
considering anybody else. I have just been jostled by 
two stout specimens of the touring Vaterland — they are 
anything but good types. If they didn't understand the 
language in which Madame Hubert expressed her opin- 
ion I think the tone said something to them, for one man 
muttered a sort of excuse. 



204 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

If I can keep my eyes open long enough I will finish 
this letter to-night. We have had a lovely afternoon — 
didn't get back until 8.30 and have only just come up- 
stairs from dinner. We started a little after three, in a 
light victoria and a capital pair of small strong post- 
horses who went at a good, steady, quick trot. The drive 
is a short hour and a half — not very interesting country 
— flat rice fields and the same numerous little canals one 
sees all over Lombardy. Monza is quite a large town — 
looks very old and Italian. The Cathedral was begun in 
the sixth century, but rebuilt in the fourteenth. There 
are all sorts of curious frescoes and relics. We saw, of 
course, the iron crown which all Austrian Emperors are 
supposed to wear at their coronation. The last two to 
wear it were Napoleon and Ferdinand I. It is really a 
large gold circle with a smaller iron one inside, and 
studded with precious stones — very heavy. It was shown 
to us with much pomp, lighted tapers, and a priest in his 
vestments. He told us the iron band inside was made 
out of a nail that had been taken from the Saviour's 
cross. He handled it very reverently, and would hardly 
let me lift it to see how heavy it was. He showed us 
many curious things, among others a fan of Queen Theo- 
dolinda's, made in the 6th century. It was small, made 
in leather, and really not too faded, though one had to 
look closely and with the eyes of faith to see the roses the 
old priest pointed out. 

While we were looking at the relics a French pelerin- 
age came up — quite a long procession ; many very nice- 
looking women. They were all dressed in black, and 
most of them wore bonnets — some few had black veils — 
priests of course, and a fair amount of men of all ages. 
They passed in procession up the aisle, chanting a psalm, 
which sounded very well, full and solemn. One or two 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 205 

stragglers, two young men and a woman stopped to see 
what we were looking at, and we had a little talk. They 
had just arrived over the St. Gothard, hadn't much time, 
and were very keen to see everything. They said it was 
very cold crossing the mountain — the heavy rain we had 
had at Milan had been deep snow on the pass. We went 
to look at Queen Theodolinda's tomb in one of the side 
chapels, and then started for the " Casa Reale "' as they 
call the Royal Villa. It has no pretensions to archi- 
tecture; is a large square building with long, rambling 
wings. We could only see the great hall and some of the 
reception rooms downstairs, as they were painting and 
cleaning upstairs. The rooms had no particular style — 
large, high ceilings, great windows looking on the park ; 
just what one sees in all Royal Palaces. All the furni- 
ture was covered with housses — the gardien took one off 
an arm-chair to show us the red velvet. The lustres also 
were covered — the mirrors were handsome. The park 
is delightful — quantities of trees of all kinds, lovely shady 
walks, and bosquets. There seemed to be a great deal of 
game — deer and pheasants walking about quite tame and 
undisturbed in all directions. The communs and depen- 
dances are enormous, quite a little colony of houses scat- 
tered about — regisseur, head-keeper, head-gardener, all 
with good gardens. 

We had a nice talk with a half-gardener half-guide who 
went about with us and showed us all the beauties. The 
place is low — I should think would be very warm in sum- 
mer, for even to-day the shade was pleasant and the low 
afternoon sun in our faces rather trying. There were 
splendid views every now and then of the distant Alps. 
The gardener, like every one else who has ever been 
thrown with her, apparently adored the Queen — said she 
knew all about the place, and trees, and flowers, and was 



2o6 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

so beloved in the town. I remember Peruzzi telling 
me how fond she was of Monza — happier there than 
anywhere. They certainly love their " Margherita di 
Savoia." There are pictures of her everywhere, and 
some one told us that all the girls in Monza are called 
Margherita. 

When we were starting back we met the pilgrims 
again, still walking and chanting on their way to the 
station. They had a white banner with them, but I 
couldn't see what the inscription was. The drive home 
was lovely, even along the long straight road bordered 
with poplars (quite like a French country road). The 
evening was delicious, a little cool driving, as we went a 
very good pace. I was glad to put a light wrap over my 
shoulders. The sunset clouds were gorgeous, and every 
now and then glimpses of the snow mountains. I love 
to see them — those beautiful white peaks, half clouds, 
half snow — they seem so mysterious, so far away from 
our every-day life and world. The road was dull, very 
little passing until we got near Milan. There we met 
bands of peasants coming in from their work in the fields, 
and country carts loaded with people — all the young ones 
singing and talking, and the wrinkled old women looking 
on smiling. We noticed again what a fine, strong race 
they are — both men and women — such broad shoulders, 
and holding themselves so straight. They must have 
been nasty adversaries when their time came and they 
shook off the hated Austrian yoke ; but they were not cruel 
victors (so says my book), the wives and daughters of 
men who had fallen under Austrian cannon nursing and 
tending their sick and wounded enemies. 

We met three or four handsome private carriages, also 
a young man driving a phaeton with a pair of handsome 
steppers. Our coachman pointed him out proudly to us 



i8So] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 207 

as the Marchese , some name I didn't catch, but he 

was evidently a swell. I suppose there are villas in the 
neighborhood, but we didn't see any, nothing but trees, 
rice fields and little canals and ditches. 

I think we shall get off the day after to-morrow. W. 
thinks one more morning with the coins will be enough 
for him, he wants now to get back. I think he is home- 
sick for the Senate and politics generally, but he won't 
allow it. We had thought of going to Como for two 
days, it is so easy from here, but he wants to stop at 
Turin, so we must give it up. I suppose it won't be as 
cold at Turin now as we always used to find it crossing 
in winter. Do you remember one of the first years, com- 
ing over the Mount Cenis, how bitterly cold it was, and 
how we shivered in the big, high rooms of the hotel — a 
mosaic pavement, bits of thin carpet on the floor, and a 
fire of shavings in the chimney. We will write and tele- 
graph, of course, from there. I don't think we shall stay 
more than one night. 

May nth. 
We are really leaving to-morrow morning, get to 
Turin for dinner. As we telegraphed yesterday the ad- 
dress I hope we shall find letters. It has been lovely 
again all day, so our last impressions are good. I have 
quite forgotten the rain and dark of the other day. The 
padrone has just informed us, with much pride, that 
the Crown Princess of Germany arrives to-night in this 
hotel from Vienna. I wish she had come yesterday — I 
should have liked to see her again. I have been out 
shopping this morning, but it is difficult; there is not 
much to buy, at least not in the nice big shops of the Gal- 
leria Vittorio Emanuele, and I am a little afraid of the 
antiquities — I know so little about bric-a-brac (au fond 



2o8 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

like modern things just as well, but other people don't, 
and would much rather have a really ugly, queer-shaped 
old cup or glass than the most graceful modern creation). 
The padrone gave me the address of a good an- 
tiquity shop, and said I could be perfectly sure in taking 
anything they said was old, and I need only say he had 
recommended me to go there. I found beautiful things, 
but all large, cassoni, high-backed, carved armchairs 
and Venetian mirrors, but the prices were awful and 
the things much too big. I wanted something smaller 
that I could put into my trunk. We went back to the 
Piazza dei Mercanti and, after looking about at many 
of the little shops, I did find some rather curious silver 
spoons and boxes. The spoons have quaint, long handles 
ending in a head, not apostles, but soldiers and women 
with veils and crowns. The boxes are most elaborately 
carved — on the cover of one there are 21 figures — 
a sort of vintage with bunches of grapes. As usual 
there were many people lounging about and stopping 
at all the shops — some of them wildly interested in 
my purchases. One funny little old man with a yellow 
face and bright eyes was apparently much pleased with 
the box I chose — nodded and smiled at me, saying : " Una 
bellezza questa" (this is a beauty). On our way back 
we went into the great court-yard of the Ospedale Mag- 
giore, an enormous brick building with fine facade and 
high pointed windows ; the walls covered with medallions 
and ornaments in terra-cotta. I believe it is one of the 
largest hospitals that exist and certainly once inside those 
great courts one would feel absolutely cut off from the 
outside world. There seemed to be gardens and good trees 
at the back — we saw the green through the cloisters, and 
there was a fine loggia overlooking the court. It was as 
sleepy and quiet as possible to-day — no sign of life, no 



i8So] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 209 

concierge nor porter, nor patient of any kind visible. If 
we had had time and wanted to go over the hospital I 
don't know whom we could have applied to. 

It was very warm walking home. Happily our way 
lay through narrow streets, with high houses on each 
side, so we had shade. I found cards and a note from the 
Murrays (English friends we had met in Rome). They 
are staying at the Cavour, but will come and dine at our 
hotel to-night. They are off to the Lakes to-morrow, 
and as we leave too early it will be our only chance of 
meeting. It will seem quite strange to see any one we 
know — we have lived so entirely alone these few days 
in Milan. I told W. last night I found him a most 
agreeable companion. We haven't talked so much to 
each other for years. He is always so busy all day in 
Paris that except for the ride in the morning, I don't see 
much of him — and of course in Rome and Florence we 
were never alone. 

It is rather late but I will write a few lines and send 
them off to-morrow morning. W. came home about 4, 
fussed a little over trunks and interviewed the porter 
about our tickets, places, etc., and then we started off for 
the Duomo. There was a party going up just as we got 
to the door_, so we joined forces — about 8 people. The 
ascent was very fatiguing, quite 500 steps, I should think, 
mostly inside the tower, with openings giving fine views 
over the city and Lombard plains. We all halted every 
now and then — I was the only lady. There were two 
Englishmen with whom we fraternized. They were 
making a walking tour through the North of Italy — 
Piedmont and Lombardy. They addressed W. by name, 
which surprised him extremely, so much so that he said : 
" I don't remember, but I suppose we must have met be- 
fore." "Not at all," they said, " we recognised you from 



2IO ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

all the pictures we had seen of you in the illustrated 
papers." What it is to be a celebrity! 

We did finally, with many stops, get up on the roof, 
and were well repaid, for the view was enchanting — 
Milan so far below us we could hardly believe it was a 
big city, but the mountains quite beautiful. There was 
a man with a telescope on top, and he pointed out the 
principal peaks. Monte Rosa was magnificent — stood 
out splendidly, a round snow peak; Mt. Cervin, Mt. 
Cenis, the Bernese far away, disappearing in the clouds; 
and various others whose names I forget, nearer. I 
couldn't see the Chartreuse of Pavia, though they said it 
was quite visible, and just the Superga of Turin. Nearer 
these were various churches and monasteries standing 
high on hills nearer the town, but I couldn't look at any- 
thing but the snow mountains. You can't imagine how 
divine they were, with the beautiful, soft afternoon sun on 
them. One couldn't really tell which was cloud and 
which was mountain — they seemed to be part of the sky. 

I found the going down more disagreeable than coming 
up. It was darker, the steps were a little broken at the 
edge and decidedly slippery; however, we arrived with- 
out any adventures. Just as we got to the hotel we saw 
three or four carriages drive up, and as we went in the 
porter told us the German Crown Princess with her 
daughters and a large suite was arriving. We stood in 
the court to see them pass — but the Princess was not 
there, only her daughters (3). They were tall, fair, very 
German-looking, each one with a large bouquet. There 
seemed any number of ladies and gentlemen in attendance, 
and a great deal of bowing and deferential manners. 

We went downstairs about a quarter to eight. We 
had given the Murrays rendezvous in the reading-room, 
but they came in just as we crossed the court, and we 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 211 

went straight to the dining-room. They told us the 
Crown Princess only comes to-morrow. They had gone 
to the station to meet her (they had seen her in Venice), 
but there were only the young Princesses. We had a 
pleasant dinner. They are a nice couple (Scotch). He 
is very clever, a literary man, rather delicate, can't stand 
the English winter, and always comes abroad. He knows 
Italy well and is mad about Venice. She is clever, too, 
but is rather silent — however, we didn't either of us 
have a chance to-night, for the two gentlemen talked 
hard, politics, which Mr. Murray was very keen about. 
He had a decided thirst for information, and asked W. so 
many questions about France, the state of politics, the 
influence of the clergy, etc., that I was rather anxious, as 
in general there is nothing W. hates like being questioned. 
However, he was very gracious to-night, and disposed 
to talk. When he doesn't feel like it wild horses couldn't 
drag anything out of him. 

They stayed till ten o'clock, and now I have been put- 
ting the last things in my small trunk. The big trunks 
go straight through from here, and we will pick them up 
at the Gare de Lyon. The padrone has just been up to 
ask if we were satisfied with the hotel, and would we 
recommend him. 



To G. W. S. 

Turin, Hotel de l'Europe, 
May 13, 1880. 

This will be my last letter from Italy, dear. I am 
sorry to think I am turning my back on this enchanting 
country. To-day has been perfect; everything, sky, sun, 
mountains, ugly yellow palaces, grim, frowning build- 
ings, look beautiful — a perfect glow of light and colour. 



212 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

I can scarcely believe it is the same city we used to freeze 
in, when we passed through it often in old times going 
down to Rome. Heavens — how cold it was everywhere 
— a wind that seemed to come straight from the glaciers 
cutting one in two when there was a great square to be 
crossed, or whistling through the arcades when we wished 
to loiter a little and see the shops and curiosities. I can't 
remember if we stayed at this hotel — I don't think so, 
as it is very comfortable and that was by no means my 
recollection of the one we always went to on our way 
down so many years ago. The rooms are high — we have 
a nice apartment on the first floor, well furnished — quite 
modern. 

We got here yesterday quite early in the afternoon. 
It is only about 4 or 5 hours by train. We had a most 
festive " send-off " from Milan. I was well " bunched " 
as some of our compatriots would say. The padrone 
gave me a beautiful bouquet of roses when we came 
downstairs to the carriage, also a nice little basket of fruit 
which he thought might be acceptable on our journey. 
He had seen about our carriage — so that was all right — 
and we found the Director of the Museum, and the Greek 
friend at the station — also wuth a bouquet. All our bags 
and wraps were stowed away in the carriage, and the 
Director of the Museum (I have never known his name) 
had also put papers — some illustrated ones — on the seats. 
I felt rather like a bride starting on her w^edding journey. 

The road wasn't very interesting. We had glimpses 
of the Alps occasionally, and the day was beautiful, mak- 
ing everything look picturesque and charming. It was 
rather a relief to get out of the rice fields and little canals. 
We stopped some little time at Novara — where we had a 
good cup of coffee. As we got near Turin everything 
looked very green. There seemed to be more trees and 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 213 

little woods than in the neighbourhood of Milan. The 
hotel porter was waiting for us at the station with a car- 
riage — so we drove straight off, leaving Madame Hubert 
in charge of the porter, who spoke French perfectly, to 
follow with the trunks. 

The hotel is on the great Place du Chateau, faces the 
Palazzo Madama. They have given us a nice apartment, 
with windows and a good balcony looking out on the 
Place. We went upstairs immediately to inspect the 
rooms — the padrone himself conducting us. There were 
flowers on the table, nice lounging chairs on the bal- 
cony. It looked charming. He wanted to send us tea 
or coffee — but we really couldn't take anything as it 
wasn't more than two hours since we had had a very 
fair little gouter at Novara. We said we would dine 
in the restaurant about 8. He was rather anxious we 
should have our dinner in the anteroom which was large 
and light — often used for a dining-room — ^but we told 
him we much preferred dining downstairs and seeing the 
people. 

We brushed off a little dust — it wasn't a very dirty 
journey — and started off for a stroll across the Piazza 
Castello. It is a fine large square, high buildings all 
around it, and the great mediaeval pile Palazzo Madama 
facing us as we went in. It looked more like a for- 
tress than a palace, but there is a fine double stair- 
case and facade with marble columns and statues — white, 
I suppose, originally, but now rather mellowed with years 
and exposure and taking a soft pink tint in the waning 
sunlight. It was inhabited by the mother of one of the 
kings, "Madama Reale," hence its name. There is a monu- 
ment to the Sardinian army in front of the palace with 
very elaborate bas-reliefs. They told us there was noth- 
ing to see inside, so we merely walked all around it, and 



214 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

then went over to the Palazzo Reale, which is a large 
brick building, with no pretensions to architecture. They 
say it is very handsome inside — large, high rooms, very 
luxuriously furnished. Somehow or other luxuriously 
furnished apartments don't seem to go with Princes of 
the House of Savoy. One can't imagine them reclining 
in ladies' boudoirs on satin cushions, with silk and damask 
hangings. They seem always to have been simple, 
hardy soldiers, more at home on a battle-field than in a 
drawing-room. We asked at the entrance if the Due 
d'Aoste was here. He told us when he was in Paris 
that if ever we came to Turin we must let him know — 
that he always received twice a week in the evening when 
he was at home and that he would be delighted to see us (I 
had put an evening dress in my trunk in case we should 
be invited anywhere) — however he isn't here, away in the 
country for three or four days on some inspection — so 
we wrote ourselves down in the book that he might see 
that we intended to pay our respects. 

We walked through some of the squares — Piazza Car- 
ignano, with the great palace Carignano which also looks 
grim and frowning, more like a prison than a stately 
princely residence. I wonder if there are any what we 
should call comfortable rooms in those gaunt old palaces. 
I have visions of barred windows, very small panes of 
glass, brick floors, frescoed ceilings black with age and 
smoke, and straight-backed, narrow carved wooden chairs. 
However a fine race of sturdy, fighting men were brought 
up within those old walls — perhaps Italy would not 
have been " unita " so soon if the pioneers of freedom 
had been accustomed to all the luxury and gaiety of the 
present generation. 

We wandered back through more squares and saw 
numberless statues of Princes and Dukes of Savoy — 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 215 

almost all equestrian — the Princes in armour, and gen- 
erally a drawn sword in their hand — one feels that they 
were a fighting race. 

The hills all around the city are charming, beautifully 
green, with hundreds of villas (generally white) in all 
directions ; some so high up one wonders how the inhabi- 
tants ever get up there. In the distance always the beau- 
tiful snow mountains. The town doesn't look either 
very Italian or very Southern. I suppose the Piedmont- 
ese are a type apart. 

We had a table to ourselves in the dining-room, which 
was almost empty — evidently people dine earlier than we 
do — and yet it is tempting to stay out on a lovely sum- 
mer evening. There were several officers in uniform at 
one table — evidently a sort of mess — about 10. They 
were rather noisy, making all sorts of jokes with the 
waiters, but they had nearly finished when we came in 
and soon departed with a great clatter of spurs and 
swords. We went for a few moments into the reading- 
room, which was also quite deserted — only two couples, 
an English clergyman and his wife both buried in their 
papers — and a German menage discussing routes and 
guides and prices for some excursion they wanted to 
make. 

I had kept on my hat as we thought we would go out, 
take a turn in the arcades and have a " granita." The 
padrone told us of a famous cafe where the " granita " 
was very good, also very good music. W. is becoming 
such a flaneur, and so imbued with the dolce far niente 
of this enchanting country that I am rather anxious 
about him. I think he will want to go every evening 
to the " Ambassadeurs " when we get back to Paris. 

We strolled about for some time. It was cool and 
there were not too many people. Everybody sitting out, 



ai6 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

smoking and drinking. We got a nice little table — each 
took an ice (they were very good — not too sweet), and 
the music was really charming — quite a large orchestra, 
all guitars and mandolins. Whenever they played a 
well-known air — song or waltz — the whole company 
joined in. It sounded very pretty — they didn't sing too 
loud, and enjoyed themselves extremely. We stayed 
some time. 

I am writing as usual, late, while W. is putting his 
notes in order. He found a note, when he came in, from 
the Director of the Museum, saying he would be delighted 
to see W. at the Museum to-morrow morning at 9 o'clock, 
and would do the honours of the cabinet de medailles — 
also the card of a Mr. Hoffman who wants very much to 
see W. and renew his acquaintance with him after many 
years. He is in this hotel and will come and see us to- 
morrow. W. has no idea who he is, but of course there 
are many Hoffmans in the world. I suppose the gentle- 
man will explain himself. If it is fine we shall drive to 
the Superga to-morrow afternoon, and start for Paris the 
next evening. W. says three seances (and his are long) 
will be all he wants in the Museum. 

May 14th. 
It has been again a lovely summer day — not too hot, 
and a delicious breeze as we drove home from La 
Superga. I have been out all day. W. was off at 9 
to meet his Director, and I started at 10 with Madame 
Hubert to flaner a little. We went first to the ar- 
cades where are all the best shops, but I can't say I was 
tempted. There was really nothing to buy — some nice 
blankets, half silk, half wool — not striped like the Como 
blankets, a plain centre, red or blue, with a bright 
border — but it was not a day to buy blankets, with the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 217 

sun bright and strong over our heads. There was a good 
deal of iron work, rather nice. I didn't care for the jew- 
ellery. I didn't see myself with a wrought-iron chain 
and cross, but I did get a large ring — strong and pret- 
tily worked, which the man said many people bought to 
put in a hall and hang keys on. There were plenty of 
people about. I didn't think the peasants were any par- 
ticular type — the men looked smaller than those about 
Milan — slight, wiry figures. A good many were evi- 
dently guides, with axes and coils of rope strapped on 
their backs. They told us in one of the shops (where as 
a true American I was asking questions, eager for infor- 
mation) that there were several interesting excursions to 
be made in the neighbourhood. 

We went again to the Piazzo Castello which is so large 
that it is a very fair walk to go all around the square — 
and went into the hall to see the statue (equestrian of 
course) of Victor Amadeus the First. The horse is 
curious, in marble. Then we went to the Cathedral, 
which is not very interesting. The sacristan showed us 
a collection of small, dark pictures over the altar which 
he said were by Albert Diirer ; but they were so black and 
confused I couldn't see anything — a little glimpse of gild- 
ing every now and then that might be a halo around a 
saint's head. What was interesting was the " Cappella 
del S. S. Sudario," where the linen cloth is kept which is 
said to have enveloped the body of our Saviour. It is 
kept in an urn, and only shown by special permission. 
This, however, the sacristan obtained for us. He disap- 
peared into the sacristy and soon returned bringing with 
him a nice fat old priest in full canonicals and very con- 
versationally disposed. He lifted ofif the top of the urn 
and drew out the linen cloth most carefully. It is very 
fine linen, quite yellow and worn — almost in holes in 



2i8 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

some parts. He spread it out most reverently on a mar- 
ble slab, and showed us the outlines of a man's figure. 
Marks there were certainly. I thought I saw the head 
distinctly, but of course the imagination is a powerful 
factor on these occasions. The chapel was dimly lighted, 
a few tapers burning, and the old priest was so convinced 
and reverent that it was catching. I suppose it might be 
possible — certainly all these traditions and relics were an 
enormous strength to the Catholic Church in the early 
days when there were no books and little learning, and 
people believed more easily and simply than they do now. 
The chapel is a rather ugly, round building, almost black, 
and with a quantity of statues (white) which stand out 
well. It is the burial chapel of the House of Savoy, and 
there are statues apparently to every Emmanuel or Ama- 
deus that ever existed — also a large marble monument to 
the late Queen of Sardinia. Do you remember when 
Prince Massimo, in Rome, always spoke of Victor Em- 
manuel, when he was King of Italy, and holding his court 
in Florence, as the King of Sardinia? 

We had walked about longer than we thought, but 
everything is close together, and it was time to get back 
to the hotel for breakfast. I had the dining-room almost 
to myself — my table was drawn up close to the open win- 
dow, a vase of roses upon it, and one or two papers — 
English, Italian, and the " Figaro." Paris seems to be 
amusing itself. Henrietta writes that the Champs 
Elysees are enchanting — all the horse chestnuts in full 
bloom. Here there is abundance of flowers — one gets 
glimpses of pretty gardens through open gates and open- 
ings in railings and walls. There are plenty of street 
stalls, too, with fruits and flowers, but one doesn't see 
the wealth of roses and wistaria climbing over every bit 
of wall and up the sides of houses as in Florence. The 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 219 

city is perfectly busy and prosperous, but has none of the 
dehghtful look of laziness and enjoyment of life and the 
blue sky and the sunshine that one feels in Rome and 
Florence. 

W, came in about 3, having had a delightful morning 
in the cabinet des medailles. The Director, a most 
learned, courteous old gentleman, was waiting for him, 
and though he knew W. and his collection by reputation, 
he was quite surprised to find that W. knew quite as much 
about his coins and treasures as he did himself. He 
hadn't supposed it possible that a statesman with so many 
interests and calls upon his time could have kept up his 
scientific work. 

We shall leave to-morrow night, and before we started 
for our drive we sent off letters and telegrams to Paris. 
I can hardly believe it possible that Friday morning I 
shall be breakfasting in Paris, going to mother to tea 
in the afternoon, and taking up my ordinary life. Hen- 
rietta writes that she has told Francis we are coming 
home, but frankness compels her to say that he has re- 
ceived that piece of information with absolute indiffer- 
ence. He has been as happy as a king all the months we 
have been away — spoiled to his heart's content and every- 
body in the two establishments his abject slaves. 

We started about 4 for La Superga in a nice light 
basket carriage and pair of strong little horses. It was 
rather interesting driving all through the town, which 
is comparatively small — one is soon out of it. The 
streets are narrow, once one is out of the great 
thoroughfares, with high houses on each side. Every 
now and then an interesting cornice with a curious round 
tower and some funny old-fashioned houses with high 
pointed roofs and iron balconies running quite around the 
house, but on the whole it is much less picturesque and 



110 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

colder looking than the other Itahan cities. The road 
was not very animated — few vehicles of any description, 
a few fiacres evidently bound for the Superga like us. 
There were not many carts nor many people about. 
What was lovely was the crown of green hills with little 
chestnut groves — some of the little woods we drove 
through were quite charming, with the long slanting 
rays of the afternoon sun shining through the branches 
— just as I remember the Galleria di Sotto at Albano 
— the chestnuts grow high on all the hillsides. We 
had quite a stiff mount before we got to the church 
(but the little horses trotted up very fairly) and a good 
climb after we left the carriage. One sees the church 
from a long distance. It has a fine colonnade and a 
high dome which lifts itself well up into the clouds. 
We followed a pretty steep, winding path up to the top, 
quantities of wild roses, a delicate pink, like our eglantine 
at home, twisting themselves around the bushes. There 
is nothing particularly interesting in the church. It is 
the burial place of the Kings of Savoy, and their vault 
is in the crypt. The last one buried there was Charles 
Albert. Victor Emmanuel is buried in the Pantheon in 
Rome. We found a nice old sacristan who took us about 
and explained various statues to us — also all the glories 
of the Casa di Savoia, winding up with an enthusias- 
tic eulogy of Queen Margherita — but never as Queen of 
Italy, " nostra Principessa." She has certainly made 
herself a splendid place in the hearts of the people — they 
all adore her. We climbed up to the roof, and what a 
view we had. all Turin at our feet with its domes and 
high, pointed roofs, standing in the midst of the green 
plain dotted all over with villas, farms, gardens, little 
groves of chestnuts, the river meandering along through 
the meadows carpeted with flowers, and looking in the 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 221 

sunlight like a gold zig-zag with its numerous turns — 
always the beautiful crown of hills, and in the back- 
ground the snow peaks of the Alps. It was very clear 
— they looked so near, as if one could throw a stone 
across. Our old man pointed out all the well-known 
peaks — Monte Rosa, Mont Cenis, and many others whose 
names I didn't catch. He said he had rarely seen the 
whole chain so distinct. It reminded me of the view 
we had of the Bernese Oberland so many years ago — 
the first time we had seen snow mountains. On ar- 
riving at Berne we were hurried out on the terrace by 
the padrone of the hotel as he said we might never 
again see all the chain of the Alps so distinctly. Beau- 
tiful it was — all the snow mountains rolling away in the 
distance ; some of them straight up into the sunset clouds, 
others with little wreaths of white soft clouds half way 
up their summits, and clouds and snow so mingled that 
one could hardly distinguish which was snow. I thought 
they were all clouds — beautiful, airy intangible shapes. 

We loitered about some time on the terrace after we 
came down, watching the lights fade and finally disappear 
— the mountains looking like great grey giants frowning 
down on the city. The air was decidedly cooler as we 
drove home, but it w^as a perfect summer evening. There 
were more people out as we got near Turin — all the work- 
ers getting a little breath of air after the toil of the day. 

May 15th. 
I will send this very long letter off this evening. Our 
trunks are packed and downstairs, and I will finish this 
while we are waiting for dinner. We have had a nice 
day. Madame Hubert and I strolled about this morning 
and went to see the house where Cavour was born, and 
also to the Giardino Pubblico. The grounds are hand- 



222 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

some, but not particularly interesting at that hour in the 
morning, and there wasn't a creature there but ourselves. 
There are various monuments — one of Manin with a fine 
figure of the Republic of Venice. 

I breakfasted as usual alone, and at 3 W. came in, hav- 
ing quite finished his work at the Museum. He had 
given rendezvous to Mr. Hoffman for 3.30, and while 
we were sitting talking waiting for him the padrone 
came up and said an ofiicer " de la part du Due d'Aoste " 
wanted to see us. We begged him of course to send him 
up, and in a few minutes a very good-looking young offi- 
cer in uniform made his appearance. He named himself 
— Count Colobiano I think — but w^e didn't catch the name 
very distinctly ; said he had had the honour of dining with 
us at the Quai d'Orsay with his Prince, and that the Prince 
was " desole " not to be in Turin these days and had 
sent him to put himself at our disposition. He proposed 
all sorts of things — the opera, a drive (or a ride if we 
preferred) to a sort of parade ground just outside the 
gates where we would see some cavalry manoeuvres. He 
knew I rode, and could give me a capital lady's hack. I 
was rather sorry he hadn't come before — it would have 
amused us to see the manceuvres, and also to ride — but 
that would have been difficult as I had no habit with me. 
However, as we are leaving this evening there was noth- 
ing to be done. He was very civil and I think rather 
sorry not to do us the honours of his city. He said there 
were beautiful excursions to be made from Turin, and 
asked us if we had seen anything. We said only the 
Superga which he evidently didn't consider very in- 
teresting. He said the Duke was very sorry to have 
missed us, and that he thought I would have enjoyed an 
evening at the Palace, as the receptions were very gay 
and informal. I cannot imagine (I didn't tell him that) 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 223 

anything gay with the Due d'Aoste. He is very sym- 
pathetic to me, but a type apart. A stern, almost ascetic 
appearance, very silent and shy, but a beautiful smile. 
He looks exactly as one would imagine a Prince of the 
House of Savoy would. We saw him often in Paris, 
and his face always interested me — so grave, and as if he 
were miles away from the ordinary modern world. It 
was just after he had given up his Spanish throne, and 
although I didn't think that crown weighed very heavily 
on his brow he must have had some curious experiences 
and seen human nature in perhaps not its best form. The 
young aide-de-camp paid us quite a visit, and we made 
him promise to come and see us if ever he came to Paris. 
We sent all sorts of messages and regrets to the Duke. 
Just as he was going out Mr. Hoffman appeared and he 
sat an hour with us. He was delightful, has lived almost 
all his life in and near Turin, and had all the history of 
Piedmont at his fingers' ends. He seems to have met W. 
years ago at a dinner in London and has always followed 
his career with much interest. It was most interesting 
to hear him talk. He admires Cavour immensely — said 
his death was a great calamity for Italy — that he hadn't 
given half of what he could, and that every year he lived 
he grew in intellect and knowledge of people. He also 
said (as they all do) that he mistrusted Louis Napoleon 
so intensely, and through all their negotiations and dis- 
cussions as to Italy's future he was pursued by the idea 
that the Emperor would go back upon his word. He 
said the Piedmontese were a race apart — hardly consid- 
ered themselves Italian, and that even now in the little 
hamlets in the mountains the peasants had vague ideas of 
nationality, and never spoke of themselves as Italians, or 
identified themselves with Italian interests and history — 
that in the upper classes traces of French occupation and 



224 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

education, superstition and priestly rule were just getting 
effaced. For years in the beginning of the century the 
priests (Jesuits) had it all their own way in Turin. The 
teaching in the schools was entirely in their hands, and 
most elementary; and numerous convents and monaster- 
ies were built. Cavour as a very young man soon eman- 
cipated himself from all those ideas, and if he had lived, 
Hoffman thinks, much trouble would have been averted, 
and that he would certainly have found some means of 
coming to a better understanding with the Vatican, " the 
most brilliant and far-seeing intellect I have ever met." 

He wanted to take us to some palace where there are 
some very curious and inedites letters of Cavour's to 
the owner, who was one of his friends, and always on 
very confidential terms with him ; but of course we 
couldn't do that as we are off in a few hours. 

Hoffman would never have gone, I think, if the 
padrone hadn't appeared to say dinner was ready. I 
left him and W. talking while I went to give some last 
instructions to the maid, and when I got back to the salon 
they had drifted away from Cavour and Piedmont and 
were discussing French politics, the attitude of Germany 
and the anti-religious feeling in France. 

I shall miss all the talk about Italy and her first strug- 
gles for independence when I get home. French people, 
as a rule, care so little for outside things. They travel 
very little, don't read much foreign literature, and are 
quite absorbed in their own interests and surroundings. 
Of course they are passing through a curious phase — so 
many old things passing away — habits and traditions of 
years upset, and the new regime not yet sufficiently estab- 
lished nor supported by all that is best in the country. 
I think W. has been impressed and rather surprised at the 
very easy way in which all religious questions are dis- 



i88o] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 225 

posed of in Italy, and yet the people are certainly super- 
stitious and have a sort of religious feeling. The 
churches are all full on great feast days, and one sees 
great big young peasants kneeling and kissing relics 
when they are exposed ; and several times even here about 
Turin we have seen men and women kneeling at some of 
the crosses along the road. I have rarely seen that in 
France — but then the Italians are a more emotional race. 
They are difficult problems — a country can't live without 
a religion. 

Rue Dumont d'Urville. 
We got back yesterday morning early. Hubert and 
the big mare were waiting for us, and we were whirled 
up to the house in a very un-Italian manner (for the 
horses in Italy are just as easy-going as the people and 
never hurry themselves nor display any undue energy). 
Francis and " nounou " were waiting at the door — he 
really quite excited and pleased to see us — and the sisters 
appeared about 11. We talked a little and they helped 
me unpack ; and I went to see mother directly after break- 
fast and stayed there all the afternoon. This morning I 
am writing as usual at the window and hearing all the 
familiar Paris sounds. The goat-boy has just passed 
with his 6 goats and curious reed pipe, the marchande 
de cressons w^ith lier peculiar cry advertising her mer- 
chandise, and ending " pour la sante du corps " on a long 
shrill note — the man who sits on the pavement and mends 
china. He is just at our door, and has a collection of 
broken plates and cups around him. I suppose some are 
ours. The " light lady " next door is standing at her 
door in her riding habit, the skirt already very short and 
held well up over her arm displaying a fair amount of 
trousers and high boots. She is haranguing in very 



226 ITALIAN LETTERS [May 

forcible language the groom who is cantering the horse 
up and down the street, and of course even in our quiet 
street there are always badauds who stop and ask ques- 
tions, and hang around the porte-cocheres to see all that 
is going on. W. has just started on horseback and that 
is a most interesting moment for the street, for his big 
black " Paddy " has a most uncomfortable trick. From 
the moment he takes the bridle in his hand and pre- 
pares to mount, the horse snorts, and stamps and backs, 
making such a noise in the little court-yard you would 
think he was kicking everything to pieces. As soon as 
the big doors are opened and he can get out he is as quiet 
as a lamb. 

It is a beautiful morning and Paris looks its best — all 
the horse-chestnuts in full bloom, the sky a bright blue, 
and quantities of equipages and riders streaming out to 
the Bois. I suppose I shall ride too in a day or so, and 
by the end of the week Italy will be a thing of the past, 
and I shall be leading my ordinary Paris life. 

There was a procession of people here all the afternoon 
yesterday to see W., and now he is quite au courant 
of all that has taken place in his absence, and I think in 
his heart he is delighted to be back and in the thick of the 
fight again. He is going to the Senate this afternoon. 

We had a most comfortable journey from Turin — a lit- 
salon to ourselves, the maid just behind us. All the first 
hours were charming as long as we could see as all the 
country about Turin is so lovely. We passed Moncalieri 
which stands high on the hills — a long low building, and 
one or two other fine old castles, all perched high on the 
slope of the mountains. I always sleep so well in a train 
that I was hardly awake when we passed at Modane, 
though I was dimly conscious of the stop, the lanterns 
flashing along the train and a great deal of conversation. 



i88oj OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 227 

Nobody disturbed us as we had given our " laissez- 
passer " to the garde, but I fancy we made a long halt 
there as the train was very crowded. We had our coffee 
at Dijon very early in the morning. It was quite pleas- 
ant to see the regular little French brioche again. 

I went to tea with Mother and afterward we went for 
a turn in the Bois, which looked beautiful — so green — all 
the horse-chestnuts out (the road from Auteuil to Bou- 
logne with the rows of red horse-chestnuts on each side 
quite enchanting) ; the hills, St. Cloud and Mont Valerien 
blue and standing out sharply against the sky, but I missed 
the delicious soft atmosphere of Italy and the haze that 
always hung around the hills and softened all the out- 
lines. The Seine looked quite animated. There really 
were one or two small boats out, and near Puteaux (the 
club) some women rowing, and of course the little river 
steamers flying up and down, crowded. 

We are dining with I'Oncle Alphonse who will give us 
all the news of the day, and the opinion of the " Union." 



PART II 
ITALY REVISITED 

To H. L. K. 

Rome, Friday, February 12, 1904. 

It seems so strange to be back here, dear, after twenty- 
four years, and to find Rome so changed, so unchanged. 
The new quarter, an absolutely new modern city, might 
be Wiesbaden, or Neuilly, or any cheerful resort of re- 
tired business men who build hideous villas with all sorts 
of excrescences — busts, vases, and plaques of bright-col- 
oured majolica — and the old city with the dirty little 
winding streets going tow^ard St. Peter's exactly the 
same; almost the same little ragged, black-eyed children 
playing in the gutters. 

We had a most comfortable journey down. Hardly 
any one in the sleeping-car but ourselves, so w^e all had 
plenty of room. It was a bright, beautiful morning 
when we got to Modane — the mountains covered with 
snow, and the fresh keen wind blowing straight from the 
glaciers was enchanting after a night in the sleeping-car. 
They are frightfully overheated. I had some difficulty 
in persuading the attendant to open my window for the 
night; however, as I was alone in my compartment, he 
finally agreed, merely saying he would come and shut 
it when we passed through the great tunnel. We dined 
at the bufifet at Genoa, and it didn't seem natural not to 
ask for the Alassio train. The station was crowded, the 

229 



230 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

Roman train too — they put on extra carriages. We got 
to Rome about 9.30. I had been ready since 6.30, 
eagerly watching to get a glimpse of St. Peter's. I had 
visions of Civita Vecchia and running along by the sea in 
the early morning. 

I was quite awake, but I didn't see St. Peter's until we 
were quite near Rome. We ran through long, level 
stretches of Campagna, with every now and then a great 
square building that had been probably a mediaeval castle, 
but was now a farm — sheep and cattle wandering out of 
the old gateway, and those splendid big white oxen that 
one sees all over the Campagna — some shepherds' huts 
with their pointed thatched roofs dotted about, but noth- 
ing very picturesque or striking. We passed close to 
San Paolo Fuori le Mura, with the Testaccio quite near. 
We paid ourselves compliments when we arrived at the 
station for having made our long journey so easily and 
pleasantly. No one was tired and no one was bored. 
Between us all (we were four women) we had plenty of 
provisions and Bessie * and Mme. de Bailleul were most 
successful with their afternoon tea, with delicious Ameri- 
can cake, that Bessie had brought over in the steamer. 

After all, Josephine f finds she has room for me and my 
maid, which of course is infinitely pleasanter for me than 
being at the hotel. Her house is charming — not one of 
the old palaces, but plenty of room and thoroughly Italian. 
The large red salon I delight in ; it couldn't exist any- 
where else but in Rome, with its red silk walls, heavy gilt 
furniture, pictures, and curious bits of old carving and 
majolica. It opens into a delightful music-room with 
fine frescoes on the walls (a beautiful bit of colour), and 
beyond that there is a small salon where we usually sit. 

* Marquise de Talleyrand-P^rigord, n^e Curtis. 
I Princess di Poggio-Suasa, nde Curtis. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 231 

She has a picture there of her husband, Don Emanuele 
Ruspoh (late syndic of Rome), which has rather taken 
possession of me. It is such a handsome, spirited face, 
energetic and rather imperious — he looks a born ruler 
of men, and I believe he was. They say Rome was never 
so well governed as in his time. He was one of the first 
of the young Roman nobles who emancipated themselves 
from the papal rule. As quite a youth he ran away from 
college and entered the Italian army as a simple soldier, 
winning his grade as captain on the battle-field. He was 
a loyal and devoted servant of the House of Savoy, and 
took a prominent part in all the events which ended in 
proclaiming Victor Emanuel King of Italy, with Rome 
his capital. 

This quarter. Piazza Barberini, is quite new to me. It 
used to seem rather far off in the old days when we came 
to see the Storys in the Barberini Palace, but now it is 
quite central. The great new street — Via Veneto — runs 
straight away from the Piazza, past the Church of the 
Cappucini — you will remember the vaults with all the 
dead monks standing about — the Palace of the Queen 
Mother, and various large hotels, to Porta Pinciana. 
Just the other side of the road is the new gate opening 
into the Villa Borghese. I rather lost myself there the 
first day I prowled about alone. It was raining, but I 
wanted some air, and turned into the Via Veneto, which 
is broad and clean. I walked quite to the end, and then 
came to the Porta Pinciana, crossed the road, and found 
myself in a beautiful villa. I didn't come upon any 
special landmark until I got near the Museum, which, of 
course, looked quite familiar. However, I was bewil- 
dered and hailed a passing groom to inquire where I was, 
and even when he told me could scarcely believe it. I 
had never gone into the Villa Borghese except by the 



232 



ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 



Piazza del Popolo. They have made extraordinary 
changes since the Government has bought it — opened 
out new roads and paths, planted quantities of trees and 
flowers, and cleaned up and trimmed in every direction. 
It will be a splendid promenade in the heart of the city, 
but no longer the old Villa Borghese we used to know, 
with ragged, unkempt corners, and little paths in out-of- 
the way places, so choked up with weeds and long grass 
that one could hardly get through. 

I haven't quite got my bearings yet, and for the first 
three or four mornings I took myself down to the Piazza 
di Spagna, and started from there. There, too, there are 
changes — new houses and shops (I was glad to see old 
Spithoever in the same place) and a decided look of 
business and modern life. There were not nearly so 
many people doing nothing, lounging about, leaning on 
the " barca," or playing mora on the Spanish Steps. 
All the botte were still standing in the middle of the 
street, the coachmen smiling, cracking their whips, and 
making frantic little dashes across the piazza whenever 
they saw an unwary stranger who might want a cab. 

The Spanish Steps looked beautiful, glowing with colour 
— pink, yellow, and that soft grey tint that the Roman 
stones take in the sunlight. All the lower steps are cov- 
ered with flower stalls (they are not allowed any longer 
scattered all over the piazza) , and most picturesque they 
looked — daffodils, mimosa, and great bunches of peach- 
blossoms which were very effective. There were very 
few models in costume sitting about ; a few children play- 
ing some sort of game with stones, which they inter- 
rupted to run after the forestieri and ask for a " pic- 
colo soldo " (a penny), and one or two old men with long 
white beards — might have done for models of the apos- 
tles or Joseph in the flight into Egypt — wrapped in their 



I904J OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 222 

wonderful long green cloaks, sitting in the sun. There 
is one novelty — an " ascenseur." I haven't been in it 
yet, but I shall try it some day. One must get accus- 
tomed to many changes in the Rome of to-day. 

I recognised some of the houses at the top of the steps 
— the corner one between Vias Sistina and Gregoriana, 
where the Rodmans used to live one year, and where we 
have dined so often, sitting on the round balcony and 
seeing the moon rise over the Pincio. 

I walked home the other day by the Via Sistina to the 
Piazza Barberini, and that part seemed to me absolutely 
unchanged. The same little open mosaic shops, with the 
workmen dressed in white working at the door — almost 
in the street. In one shop they were just finishing a 
table, putting in countless bits of coloured marble (some of 
them very small) . It was exactly like the one we brought 
from Rome many years ago, which stands now in Francis's 
smoking-room. There was of course the inevitable 
jeweller's shop, with crosses and brooches of dull yellow 
Roman gold and mosaic, and silk shops with Roman silk 
scarfs, and a sort of coarse lace which I have seen every- 
where. In the middle of the street a miserable wrinkled 
old woman, her face mahogany colour, attired in a red 
skirt with a green handkerchief on her head, was skirmish- 
ing with a band of dirty little children, who had apparently 
upset her basket of roast chestnuts, and were making off 
with as many as they could find, pursued by her shrill 
cries and " maledizioni." 

We went out in the open carriage yesterday, and drove 
all around Rome leaving cards — finished with a turn in 
the Villa Borghese and Pincio. It was too late for the 
Villa — almost every one had gone, and one felt the chill 
strike one on going into the thick shade after coming out 
of the bright sun in the Piazza del Popolo. We crossed 



234 



ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 



Queen Margherita at the gate. She looked so handsome 
— the black is very becoming and threw out well her fair 
hair and skin. She was driving in a handsome carriage 
— the servants in mourning. One lady was with her — 
another carriage and two cyclists following. All the 
people bowed and looked so pleased to see her, and her 
bow and smile of acknowledgment were charming. 

We made a short turn in the Villa and then went on 
to the Pincio, which was crowded. There were some 
very handsome, stately Roman equipages, plenty of light 
victorias, a few men driving themselves in very high 
phaetons, and the inevitable botta with often three youths 
on the one seat. The carriages didn't draw up — the 
ladies holding a sort of reception as in our days, when 
all the *' gilded youth " used to sit on the steps of the 
victorias and surround the carriages of the pretty women. 
They tell me the present generation comes much less to 
the Villa Borghese and Pincio. They are much more 
sporting — ride, drive automobiles and play golf. There 
are two golf clubs now — one at Villa Pamphili Doria, the 
other at Aqua Santa. Every time we go out on the Cam- 
pagna we meet men with golf clubs and rackets. 

Monday I prowled about in the morning, always 
making the same round — Via Sistina and the Spanish 
Steps. The lame man at the top of the steps knows me 
well now, and we always exchange a cheerful good 
morning. Sometimes I give him some pennies and some- 
times I don't, but he is always just as smiling when I 
don't give him anything. 

In the afternoon Madame de B. and I went for a drive 
and a little sight-seeing. She wanted a bottle of euca- 
lyptus from the monks at Tre Fontane, so we took in San 
Paolo Fuori le Mura on our way. The drive out is 
charming — a few dirty little streets at first — past the 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 235 

Theatre of Marcellus, which looks blacker and grimmer, 
if possible, than when I last saw it — and then some dis- 
tance along the river. There are great changes — high 
buildings, quays, boats, carts with heavy stones and quan- 
tities of workmen — really quite an air of a busy port — 
busy of course in a modified sense, as no Roman ever 
looks as if he were working hard, and there are always 
two or three looking on, and talking, for every one who 
works — however, there is certainly much more life in 
the streets and the city looks prosperous. 

The great new Benedictine Monastery of Sant' Anselmo 
stands splendidly on the heights (Aventine) to the left, 
also the walls and garden of the Knights of Malta. The 
garden, with its long shady walks, between rows of tall 
cypress trees, looked most inviting. Wq left the Tes- 
taccio and Protestant Cemetery on our right and followed 
a long file of carriages evidently going, too, to San Paolo. 
That of course looked exactly the same — an enormous 
modern building with a wealth of splendid marble col- 
umns inside. The proportions and great spaces are very 
fine, and there was a brilliant efifect of light and colour 
(as every column is different). Some of the red-pink 
was quite beautiful, but it is not in the least like a church 
— not at all devotional. One can't imagine any poor 
weary souls kneeling on that slippery, shining marble 
pavement and pouring out their hearts in prayer. It is 
more like a great hall or academy. We went out into 
the quiet of the cloisters, which are interesting, some 
curious old tombs and statues, but small for such a huge 
basilica — always the square green plot in the centre with 
a well. 

We had some difficulty in making our way to the car- 
riage through a perfect army of boys and men selling 
photographs, postal cards, mosaic pins with views of the 



236 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

church, etc., also bits of marble, giallo antico, porphyry 
and a piece of dark marble, almost black, which had come 
from the Marmorata close by. 

We went on to the Tre Fontane, about half an hour's 
drive — real country, quite charming. We didn't see the 
churches until we were quite close to them — they are 
almost hidden by the trees. I never should have recog- 
nised the place. The eucalyptus trees which the monks 
were just beginning to plant when we were here before 
have grown up into a fine avenue. They were cutting 
and trimming them, and the ground was covered with 
great branches making a beautiful green carpet with a 
strong perfume. Various people were looking on and 
almost every one carried off a branch of eucalyptus. We 
did too, and one is now hanging over the bed in my room. 
It is supposed to be very healthy. It has a very strong 
odour — to me very agreeable, 

A service was going on in one of the churches, the 
monks singing a low monotonous chant, and everything 
was so still ; one was so shut in by the trees that the out- 
side world, Rome and the Corso might have been miles 
away. We went into the church to see the three foun- 
tains built into the wall. Tradition says that when St. 
Paul was executed his head bounded three times and at 
each place a fountain sprang up. A tall young monk was 
going about with some seminarists explaining the legend 
to them. They were listening with rapt attention and 
drinking reverently at each fountain. 

We went into the little farmacia and found there a 
German monk who was much pleased when he found we 
could speak German. He told us there were 90 monks 
there, and that the place was perfectly healthy — not as 
when they began their work, when many died of fever. 
We each bought a bottle of eucalyptus, and were sorry to 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 237 

come away. The light was fading — the eucalyptus ave- 
nue looked dark and mysterious, and the low chant of 
the monks was still going on. 

We went to a beautiful ball in the evening at the Bran- 
caccios'. They built their palace — which is enormous — 
has a fine marble staircase (which showed off the 
women's long trailing skirts splendidly) and quantities 
of rooms filled with beautiful things. I didn't take them 
all in as I was so much interested in the people, but Bessie 
has promised to take me all over the palace some morning. 

To-day we have been to the Brancaccio garden. It 
was a beautiful bright morning, so Bessie Talleyrand pro- 
posed we should drive up and stroll about there. We 
telephoned to Brancaccio, who said he would meet us in 
the garden. You can't imagine anything more enchant- 
ing than that beautiful southern garden in the heart of 
Rome. We drove through the courtyard and straight up 
the hill to a little bridge that connects the garden with 
Mrs. Field's old apartment. Mrs. Field really made the 
garden (and loved it always). When they bought the 
ground it was simply an "orto " or field, and now it is a 
paradise filled with every possible variety of trees and 
flowers. It seems that wherever she saw a beautiful tree 
she immediately asked what it was and where it came 
from, and then had some sent to her from no matter 
where. Of course hundreds were lost — the journey, 
change of soil, transplanting them, etc., but hundreds 
remain and the effect is marvellous. Splendid tall palms 
from Bordighera, little delicate shrubs from America and 
Canada all growing and thriving side by side in the beau- 
tiful Roman garden. There is a fine broad allee which 
goes straight down from the winter garden to the end 
of the grounds with the Colosseum as background. It 
is planted on each side with green oaks, and between them 



238 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

rows of orange and mandarin trees — the branches heavy 
with the fruit. We picked dehcious, ripe, warm manda- 
rins from the trees, and eat them as we were strolhng 
along. It was too early for the roses, of which there are 
thousands in the season — one saw the plants twining 
around all the trees. There are all sorts of ruins and old 
walls in the garden, baths of Titus, Sette Celle, and one 
comes unexpectedly, in odd corners, upon fine old bits 
of carving and wall which have no name now, but which 
certainly have had a history. 

The sky was a deep blue over our heads, and the trees 
so thick, that the ugly new buildings which skirt one side 
of the garden are almost completely hidden. It was a 
pleasure just to sit on a bench and live — the air was so 
soft, and the garden smell so delicious. 

After breakfast I went out early with Josephine — leav- 
ing of course some cards first — after that we took a turn 
on the Pincio, which was basking in the sunshine (but 
quite deserted at that hour except by nurses and children), 
and then drove out toward the Villa Pamphili. The road 
was so familiar, and yet so different. The same steep 
ascent to the Janiculum with the beggars and cripples of 
all ages running alongside the carriage and holding out 
withered arms and maimed limbs — awful to see. The 
road is much wider — more of a promenade, trees and 
flowers planted all along. The fountains of San Pietro 
in Montorio looked beautiful — such a rush of bright, 
dancing water. We drove through the Villa Corsini — 
quite new since my time — a beautiful drive, and drew up 
on the terrace just under the equestrian statue of Gari- 
baldi from where there is a splendid view — the whole 
city of Rome at our feet, seen through a warm, grey mist 
that made even the ugly staring white and yellow houses 
of the new quarter look picturesque. They lost them- 



I904J OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 239 

selves in a charming ensemble. St. Peter's looked very 
near but always a little veiled by the haze which made the 
great mass more imposing. We looked straight across 
the city to the Campagna — all the well-known monuments 
— Cecilia Metella, aqueducts and the various tombs scat- 
tered along the Via Appia were quite distinct. The 
statue of the great revolutionary leader seemed curiously 
out of place. I should have preferred almost the tradi- 
tional wolf with the two little boys sucking in her milk. 
We couldn't stay very long as we had a tea at home. We 
met many people and carriages going up as we came 
down, as it was the day for the Villa Pamphili, which is 
open to the public twice a week. 

We went to a ball at the Storys' in the evening, and 
as we went up the great staircase of the Barberini Palace 
(the steps so broad and shallow that one could drive up in 
a light carriage) finishing with the steep little flight quite 
at the top which leads directly to the Story apartment, I 
could hardly realize how many years had passed since I 
had first danced in these same rooms, and that I shouldn't 
find the charming, genial maitre de maison of my youth 
who made his house such an interesting centre. I think 
one of Mr. Story's greatest charms was his absolute sim- 
plicity, his keen interest in everything and his sympathy 
with younger men who were still fighting the great battle 
of life which he had brought to such a triumphant close. 
His son, Waldo Story,* who has inherited his father's 
talent, keeps up the hospitable traditions of the house. 

The ball was very animated — all the young dancing 
Rome was there. 

*The well-known sculptor. 



240 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

Monday, February 15th. 

I am alone this morning — the others have gone to 
the meet at Cecchignola fiiori Porta San Sebastiano. I 
should have liked to go for the sake of old times, but I 
was rather tired, and have the court ball to-night. 

Last night I had a pleasant dinner at Count Vitali's. 
He has bought the Bandini palace, and made it, of course, 
most comfortable and modern. The rooms are beautiful 
— the splendid proportions and great space one only sees 
now in Rome in the old palaces. The dinner was for 
M. Nisard (French Ambassador to the Vatican), but it 
wasn't altogether Black. There were one of the Queen's 
ladies and one or two secretaries from the Quirinal em- 
bassies. The line between the two parties is not nearly 
so sharply drawn as when I was here so many years ago. 
A few people came in the evening. Among the first to 
appear was Cardinal Vincenzo Vannutelli, whom I was 
delighted to see again. It is long since I have seen a 
cardinal in all the bravery of his red robes and large 
jewelled cross, and for the first time I felt as if I were back 
in old Rome. We had a nice talk and plunged into Mos- 
cow and all the coronation festivities. I told him I was 
very anxious to see the Pope, which he said could easily 
be arranged. Nisard, too, was charming — said I should 
have an audience speciale as ancienne ambassadrice. I 
waited to see the cardinal go with all the usual cere- 
monies for a prince of the Church. Two big footmen 
with flambeaux and tall candles escorted him to his car- 
riage. The cardinal came alone, which surprised me. I 
thought they always had an attendant — a sort of eccle- 
siastical aide-de-camp. 

Saturday Marquise de Bailleul and I were received by 
the Queen. Our audience was at four. I went for her 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 241 

a little before. We drove straight to the Quirinal, the 
great entrance on the piazza. Two swell porters were 
at the door, but no guards nor soldiers visible anywhere. 
We went up the grand staircase, where there was a red 
carpet and plenty of flowers, but no servants on the steps. 
The doors of a large anteroom at the top of the stairs 
were open, and there were four footmen in powder, 
culottes, and royal red liveries, and three or four men 
in black. We left our wraps. I wore my grey velvet 
and Marquise de Bailleul was in black with a handsome 
sable cape (which she was much disgusted at leaving). 
We went at once into a large room, where the dame de 
palais- de service was waiting for us. She had a list 
in her hand, came forward at once and named herself, 
Duchesse d'Arscoli, said she supposed I was Madame 
Waddington. I introduced Marquise de Bailleul. The 
gentleman also came up and said a few words. There 
were one or two other ladies in the room, evidently 
waiting their turn. In a few minutes the door 
into the next room opened and two ladies came out. 
The duchess went in, remained a second, then com- 
ing back, waved us in. She didn't come in herself. 
didn't announce us, and shut the door behind us. 
We found ourselves in a large, rather bare room, with 
no trace of habitation — I fancy it is only used for 
official receptions. The Queen was standing at a table 
about the middle of the room. She is tall, dark, with 
fine eyes and a pretty smile. We made our two curtseys 
— hadn't time for the third, as she advanced a step, shook 
hands, and made us sit down. The visit didn't last very 
long. I fancy she was rather tired, as evidently she had 
been receiving a good many people, and was probably 
bored at having to make phrases to utter strangers she 
might never see again. We had the usual royal questions 



242 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

as to our children. As I only had one child my conver- 
sation on that subject soon came to an end, but Marquise 
de Bailleul has three small ones, so she got on swim- 
mingly. The Queen talked very prettily and simply 
about her own children, and the difficulty of keeping them 
natural and unspoiled ; said people gave them such beau- 
tiful presents — all sorts of wonderful mechanical toys 
which they couldn't appreciate. One thing she said was 
rather funny — that the present they liked best was a rag 
doll the American Ambassadress had brought them from 
America. 

As soon as we came out other people went in. I fancy 
all the strangers asked to the ball had to be presented first 
to the Queen. I think the London rule was rather sim- 
pler. There the strangers were always presented at sup- 
per, when the Princess of Wales made her " cercle." 

We went to a ball in the evening at Baron Pasetti's 
(Austrian Ambassador to the Quirinal). They have a 
fine apartment in the Palazzo Chigi. I remembered the 
rooms quite well, just as they were in the old days when 
Wimpffen was Ambassador. The hall was most brill- 
iant — all Rome there. The Pasettis are going away, and 
will be much regretted. I think he is rather delicate and 
has had enough of public life. I hadn't seen him since 
Florence, when w'e were all young, and life was then a 
succession of summer days — long afternoons in the villas, 
with roses hanging over the walls, and evenings on the 
balcony, with nightingales singing in the garden and the 
scent of flowers in the air, " der goldener Zeit der jungen 
Liebe " (the golden days of young love). 

Sunday Bessie and I went to the American church. 
Dr. Nevin is still away. The church is large, but was 
quite full — there are evidently many Americans in Rome. 
The great mosaics over the altar were given by Mrs. Field. 



1904J OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 243 

Wednesday, February lytn. 
Monday night we went to the court ball. It was very 
amusing, but extraordinarily simple, not to say demo- 
cratic. Bessie and I went together early, so as to get 
good seats. If I hadn't known we were going to the pal- 
ace I should have thought we had made a mistake in the 
house. The square of the Ouirinal was so quiet, almost 
deserted — no troops nor music, nor crowd of people look- 
ing on and peering into the carriages to see the dresses 
and jewels — no soldiers nor officials of any kind on 
the grand staircase. Some tall cuirassiers and foot- 
men in the anteroom — no chamberlains nor pages — noth- 
ing like the glittering crowd of gold lace and uniforms 
one usually sees in the anteroom of a palace. We 
walked through two or three handsome rooms to the ball- 
room, where there were already a great many people. 
The room is large, high, but rather too narrow, with 
seats all round. There was no raised platform for the 
court — merely a carpet and two large gilt arm-chairs for 
the King and Queen and a smaller one for the Comte de 
Turin. It was amusing to see all the people coming in, 
the different uniforms and jewels of the women giving 
at once an air of court. The entrance of the royal 
cortege was quite simple. They played the " Marcia 
Reale," which I don't at all care for. It is a frivolous, 
jumpy little tune, not at all the grave, dignified measure 
one would expect on such an occasion. There were no 
chamberlains walking backward with their great wands 
of office in their hands. The master of ceremonies, 
^Count Gianotti, looking very well in his uniform and 
broad green ribbon, came first, and almost immediately 
behind him the King and Queen, arm in arm, the Count 
of Turin, and a small procession of court functionaries. 



244 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

The Queen looked very well in yellow, with a splendid 
tiara. She took her seat at once; the King and Comte 
de Turin remained standing. What was charming was 
the group of young court ladies who followed the Queen 
— tall, handsome women, very well dressed. There was 
no " quadrille d'honneur," none of the royalties danced. 
The dancing began as soon as the court was seated — any 
little couple, a young lieutenant, an American, any one, 
dancing under the nose of the sovereigns. The Queen 
remained sitting quite alone, hardly speaking to any one, 
through three or four dances ; then there was a move, and 
she made her " cercle," going straight around the room, 
and speaking to almost every one. The King made no 
" cercle," remained standing near the " corps diploma- 
tique," who were all massed on one side of the thrones 
(or arm-chairs). He talked to the ambassadors and 
etrangers de distinction (men — they say he rarely speaks 
to a woman). We all moved about a little after the 
Queen had passed, and I found plenty of old friends 
and colleagues to talk to. Neither the Russian Ambas- 
sador, Prince Ourousoff, nor any of his staff were pres- 
ent, on account of the war. 

Tuesday it poured all the morning, so I didn't get my 
usual walk, and I tried to put some sort of order in our 
cards, which are in a hopeless confusion. The unfortu- 
nate porter is almost crazy. There are four of us here 
(as Madame de Bailleul's cards and invitations also come 
here), all with different names, and it must be impossible 
not to mix them. 

It stopped raining in the afternoon and Josephine and 
I walked up to Palazzo Brancaccio after tea, to ask about 
Bessie, who has been ill ever since her ball. The streets 
were full of people, a few masks (as it was Mardi Gras), 
but quite in the lower classes. I should think the Car- 




Victor Eiiiamiel III., Kiiii; of Italy. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 245 

nival was dead, as far as Society is concerned. We got 
very little information about Bessie — the porter would 
not let us go upstairs, said the Princess was in the coun- 
try, or perhaps in Paris. It seems he is quite a char- 
acter, well known in Rome. When Mr. Field was ill, 
dying, of course everybody went to inquire, which seemed 
to exasperate him, as he finally replied, " ma si, e malato, 
va morire, ma lasciarlo in pace — perche venir seccar la 
gente? " (yes, yes, he is ill, dying, but leave him in peace 
— why do you come and bore people?). 

We stepped in at a little church on our way back, where 
a benediction was going on. It was brilliantly lighted, 
and filled with people almost all kneeling — princesses and 
peasants — on the stone floor. It was a curious contrast 
to the motley, masquerading crowd just outside. 



Thursday, i8th. 
It is still showery and the streets very muddy to-day. 
This morning I made a solitary expedition to St. Peter's 
— armed with an Italian guide-book M. Virgo lent me 
(it was red, like Baedeker, so I looked quite the tourist). 
I went by tram — M. Virgo and the children escorted me 
to the bottom of the Via Tritone, and started me. The 
tramway is most convenient. We went through the 
Piazza di Spagna, across the Piazza del Popolo, and 
turned off short to the left. It was all quite different 
from what I remembered — a fine broad road (Lungo 
Tevere) (along the Tiber) with quantities of high, ugly 
modern buildings, " maisons de location," villas, and an 
enormous Ministere, I forget which one. Public Works, 
I think, which could accommodate a village. Some of the 
villas are too awful — fancy white stucco buildings orna- 
mented with cheap statues and plaques of majolica and 



246 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

coloured marble. The tram stopped at the end of the 
piazza facing the church, but one loses the sense of im- 
mensity being so near. I saw merely the facade and the 
great stone perron. I wandered about for an hour find- 
ing my way everywhere, and recognising all the old monu- 
ments — Christina of Sweden, the Stuart monuments, 
the Cappella Julia, etc. There were quite a number of 
people walking about and sitting on the benches, or in the 
stalls of the little side chapels, reading their Baedekers. 
I came home in a botta for the sum of one franc. I 
wanted to cross the St. Angelo Bridge and see the crooked 
dirty little streets and low dark shops I remembered so 
well — and which will all disappear one day — with new 
quarters and all the old buildings pulled down. They 
were all there quite unchanged, only a little dirtier — the 
same heaps of decayed vegetables lying about in the cor- 
ners, girls and women in bright red skirts and yellow 
fichus on their heads, long gold earrings, and gold pins in 
their hair, standing talking in the doorways, children 
playing in the gutter, a general smell of frittura every- 
where. The little dark shops have no windows, only a 
low, narrow door, and the people sit in the doorway to 
get all the light they can for their work. 

We paid some visits in the afternoon, winding up with 
Princess Palladicini. Her beautiful apartment looked 
just the same (only there, too, is an ascenseur) with 
the enormous anteroom and suites of salons before reach- 
ing the boudoir, where she gave us tea. I remembered 
everything, even the flowered Pompadour satin on the 
walls, just as I had always seen it. 

Saturday, February 20th. 
These last two days have been beautiful — real Roman 
days, bright blue sky, warm sun, and just air enough to 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 247 

be pleasant. Yesterday I trammed over again to the 
Vatican (a trolley car is an abomination in Rome, but so 
convenient). I wanted to see the statues and my favour- 
ite Apollo Belvedere, who hasn't grown any older in 24 
years — the same beautiful, spirited young god. As I was 
coming downstairs I saw some people going into the gar- 
den from a side door, so I stepped up to the gardien, 
and said I wanted to go too. He said it was quite im- 
possible without a permesso signed by one of the offi- 
cers of the Pope's household. I assured him in my best 
Italian that I could have all the permessi I wanted, that 
I knew a great many people, was only here de pas- 
sage and might not be able to come back another day, 
and that as I was alone he really might let me pass — so 
after a little conversation he chose a time when no one 
was passing, opened the door as little as he could and let 
me through. There were two or three parties being con- 
ducted about by guides, but no one took any notice of 
me, and I wandered about for some time quite happy. It 
is a splendid garden — really a park. I seemed to have 
got out on a sort of terrace (the carriage road below me). 
There were some lovely walks, with cypress and ilex mak- 
ing thick shade, and hundreds of camellias — great trees. 
The view toward Monte Mario was divine — everything 
so clear, hardly any of the blue mist that one almost 
always sees on the Campagna near Rome. The sun was 
too hot when I had to cross an open space, and I was 
glad to get back to the dark cypress walks. It was en- 
chanting, but I think the most beautiful nature would 
pall upon me if I knew I must always do the same thing. 
I am sure Leon XIII. must have pined often for the green 
plains and lovely valleys around Perugia, and I don't 
believe the most beautiful views of the Alban hills tipped 
with snow, and pink in the sunset hues, will make up to 



248 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

the present Pope for the Lagoons of Venice and the long 
sweep of the Grand Canal to the sea. 

Tuesday, 23d. 

Yesterday Josephine and I drove out to the meet at 
Acqiia Santa, out of Porta San Giovanni. There were 
quantities of carriages and led horses going out, as it is 
one of the favourite meets — you get out so soon into the 
open country. There was such a crowd as we got near 
that we got out and walked, scrambling over and through 
fences. It was a much larger field than I had ever seen 
in Rome — many officers (all in uniform) riding, and 
many women. The hounds broke away from a pretty 
little olive wood on a height, and stretched away across 
a field to two stone walls, which almost every one jumped. 
There were one or two falls, but nothing serious. They 
were soon out of sight, but we loitered on the Campagna, 
sitting on the stone walls, and talking to belated hunters 
who came galloping up, eager to know which way the 
hunt had gone. 

Sunday we had a party and music at the French 
Embassy (Vatican). Diemor played beautifully, so did 
Teresina Tua. When they played together Griegg's so- 
nata for piano and violin it was enchanting. All the 
Black world was there, and a good many strangers. 

Thursday, February 25th. 
We dined last night at the Wurts', who have a charm- 
ing apartment in one of the finest old palaces (Anticci 
Mattel) in Rome. The staircase beautiful, most elabo- 
rately carved, really reminded me of Mont St. Michel, 
Their rooms are filled with all sorts of interesting things, 
the collection of years. The dinner was very pleasant — 
half Italian, half diplomatic. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 249 

I have just come in from my audience with the Pope. 
I found the convocation when I got home last night. 
Bessie was rather disgusted at not having received hers, 
as we had planned to go together ; but she said she would 
come with me. She would dress herself in regulation 
attire — long black dress and black veil — and take the 
chance. We had a mild humiliation as we got to the 
inner Court. The sentries would not let us pass. We 
had the small coupe, with one horse, and it seems one- 
horse vehicles are not allowed to enter these sacred pre- 
cincts. We protested, saying we had a special audience, 
and that we couldn't get out on the muddy pavement, but 
it was no use; they wouldn't hear of our modest equi- 
page going in, so we had to cross the court — quite a large 
one, and decidedly muddy — on foot, holding up our long 
dresses as well as we could. 

It seemed so natural to go up the great stone staircase, 
with a few Swiss guards in their striped red and yellow 
uniform standing about. We spoke to one man in Ital- 
ian, asking him the way, and he replied in German. I 
fancy very few of them speak Italian. We passed 
through a good many rooms filled with all sorts of 
people : priests, officers, gardes nobles, women in black, 
evidently waiting for an audience, valets de chambre 
dressed in red damask, camerieri segreti in black vel- 
vet doublets, ruffs and gold chains and cross — a most 
picturesque and polyglot assemblage; one heard every 
language under the sun. 

We were passed on from one room to another, and 
finally came to a halt in a large square room, where there 
were more priests, one or two monsignori, in their violet 
robes, and two ofiticers. I showed my paper, one of 
the monsignori, Bicletis (maestro di Casa di Sua San- 
tita), came forward and said the Pope was expecting 



250 



ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 



me; so then I presented Bessie, explained that her name 
had been sent in at the same time with mine, and that if 
she could be admitted (without the convocation) it would 
be a great pleasure to both of us to be received together. 
He said there would be no difficulty in that. 

While we were talking to him the door into the audi- 
ence chamber was opened, and a large party came out — 
the Comte and Comtesse d'Eu and their sons, with a 
numerous suite. We had barely time to exchange a few 
remarks, as Monsignor Bicletis was waiting for us to 
advance. We found the Pope standing in the centre of 
rather a small room. The walls were hung with red 
damask, the carpet also was red, and at one end were 
three gold chairs. We made low curtseys — didn't kneel 
nor kiss his hands, being Protestants. He advanced a 
few steps, shook hands, and made us sit down, one on 
each side of him. He was dressed, of course, entirely in 
white. He spoke only Italian — said he understood 
French, but didn't speak it easily. He has a beautiful 
face — so earnest, with a fine upward look in his eyes ; not 
at all the intellectual, ascetic appearance of Leo XIII., nor 
the half-malicious, kindly smile of Pius IX., but a face 
one would remember. I asked him if he was less tired 
than when he was first named Pope. He said, oh, yes, 
but that the first days were very trying — the great heat, 
the change of habits and climate, and the change of food 
(so funny, one would think there needn't be any great 
change between Rome and Venice — less fish, perhaps). 
He talked a little — only a little — about France, and the 
difBcult times we were passing through ; knew that I was 
a Protestant and an " old Roman " ; asked how many 
years since I had been back ; said : " You won't find the 
old Rome you used to know ; there are many, many 
changes." 




Pope Pius X. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE n^^ 

He was much interested in all Bessie told him about 
America and the Catholic religion in the States — was 
rather amused when she suggested that another American 
cardinal might perhaps be a good thing. He asked us 
if we knew Venice, and his face quite lighted up when 
we spoke of all the familiar scenes where he had spent so 
many happy years. He was much beloved in Venice. 
He gave me the impression of a man who was still feel- 
ing his way, but who, when he had found it, would go 
straight on to what he considered his duty. But I must 
say that is not the general impression ; most people think 
he will be absolutely guided by his " entourage," who will 
never leave him any initiative. 

As we were leaving I said I had something to ask. 
" Dica, dica. La prego " (Please speak), so I explained 
that I was a Protestant, my son also, but that he had 
married a Catholic, and I would like his blessing for my 
daughter. He made me a sign to kneel and touched my 
head with his hand, saying the words in Latin, and add- 
ing, " E per Lei et tutta la sua famiglia " (for you and 
all your family). He turned his back slightly when we 
went out, so we w-ere not obliged to back out altogether. 

We talked a few moments in the anteroom with Mon- 
signor Bicletis, but he was very busy, other people going 
in to the Pope, so we didn't stay and went down to Cardi- 
nal Mery del Val's apartment. He receives in the beau- 
tiful Borgia rooms, with Pinturicchio's marvellous fres- 
coes (there was such a lovely Madonna over one of the 
doors, a young pure face against that curious light-green 
background one sees so often in the early Italian mas- 
ters). The apartment was comparatively modern — 
calorifere, electric light, bells, etc. While we were wait- 
ing the Comte and Comtesse d'Eu and their party passed 
through. 



252 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

The Cardinal received us standing, but made us sit 
down at once. He is a tall, handsome homme du 
monde, rather English looking, very young. He told 
us he was not yet forty years old. He speaks English 
as well as I do (his mother was English), and, they tell 
me, every other language equally well. He seemed to 
have read everything and to be au courant of all that 
was said and thought all over the world. He talked a 
little more politics than the Pope — deplored what was 
going on in France, was interested in all Bessie told him 
about America and Catholicism over there. They must 
be struck with the American priests and bishops whom 
they see in Europe, not only their conception, but their 
practice of their religion is so different. I had such an 
example of that one day when we asked a friend of ours, a 
most intelligent, highly educated modern priest, to meet 
Monsignor Ireland, He was charmed with him — lis- 
tened most intently to all he said, particularly when he 
was speaking of the wild life out West, near California, 
and the difficulty of getting any hold over the miners. 
(He started a music hall, among other things, to have 
some place where the men could go in the evenings, and 
get out of the saloons and low drinking-shops.) Our 
friend perfectly appreciated the practical energy of the 
monsignor, but said such a line would be impossible in 
France. No priest, no matter how high his rank, would 
be allowed such initiative, and the people would not 
understand. 

He didn't keep us very long, had evidently other audi- 
ences, and not time to talk to everybody. I am very 
glad to have seen him. He is quite unlike any cardinal 
I have ever met — perhaps because he is so much younger 
than most of them, perhaps because he seemed more 
homme du monde than ecclesiastic; but I daresay that 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 253 

type is changing, too, with everything else in Rome. We 
had a most interesting afternoon. After all, Rome and 
the Vatican are unique of their kind. 

Friday, February 26th. 
I had my audience from Queen Margherita alone this 
afternoon. Bessie and Josephine have already been. Her 
palace is in the Veneto (our quarter) and very near. 
It is a large, fine building, but I should have liked it bet- 
ter standing back in a garden, not directly on the street. 
However, the Romans don't think so. There are always 
people standing about waiting to see her carriage or auto 
pass out — they wait hours for a smile from their be- 
loved Regina Margherita. I went up in an ascenseur 
— three or four footmen (in black) and a groom of the 
chambers at the top. I was ushered down a fine long 
gallery with handsome furniture and pictures to a large 
room almost at the end, where I found the Marquise Villa 
Marina (who is always with the Queen), the Duchesse 
Sforza Cesarini (lady in waiting), and one gentleman. 
There were three or four people in the room, waiting also 
to be received. Almost immediately the door into the 
next room opened, and the Duchesse Sforza waved me 
in (didn't come in herself). I had at once the impres- 
sion of a charming drawing-room, with flowers, pictures, 
books, bibelots — not in the least like the ordinary bare 
official reception room where Queen Elena received us. 
The Queen, dressed in black, was sitting on a sofa about 
the middle of the room, and really not much changed 
since I had seen her twenty-four years ago at the Qui- 
rinal, when the present King was a little boy, dressed in 
a blue sailor suit. She is a little stouter, but her blonde 
hair and colouring just the same, and si grand air. 
She was most charming, talked in French and English, 



254 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

about anything, everything — asked about my sister-in- 
law, Madame de Bunsen, and her daughter Beatrice, 
whom she had known as a Httle girl in Florence. She 
is very fond of automobiling, so we had at once one great 
point of sympathy. She had read " The Lightning Con- 
ductor " and w-as much amused with it. We talked a lit- 
tle about the great changes in Rome. I told her about 
our visit to the Pope, and the impression of simplicity and 
extreme goodness he had made upon us. I can't remem- 
ber all we talked -about. I had the same impression that 
I had tw^enty-four years ago — a visit to a charming, sym- 
pathetic woman, very large-minded, to whom one could 
talk of anything. 

Sunday, 28th, 
It has poured all day, but held up a little in the after- 
noon, so we went (all four) to see Cardinal Mathieu, who 
lives in the Villa Wolkonsky. He had asked us to come 
and walk in his beautiful garden (with such a view of 
the Aqueducts) but that was of course out of the ques- 
tion. He is very clever and genial, and was rather 
amused at the account we gave him of our discussions. 
We are two Catholics and two Protestants, and argue 
from morning till night — naturally neither party con- 
vincing the other. He told us we should go to the 
Vatican to-morrow — there was a large French pelerinage 
which he presented. We would certainly see the Pope 
and perhaps hear him speak. 

Monday. 
We had a pleasant breakfast this morning with 
Bebella d'Arsoli,* in their beautiful apartment in his 

* Princess d'Arsoli, n6e Bella Brancaccio, granddaughter of Hickson 
Field. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 2SS 

father's (Prince Massimo's) palace. The palace looks 
so black and melancholy outside, with its heavy portico 
of columns (and always beggars sitting on the stone 
benches under the portico) that it was a surprise to get 
into their beautiful rooms — with splendid pictures and 
tapestries. The corner drawing-room, where she received 
us, flooded with light, showing off the old red damask 
of the walls and the splendid ceiling. We went to see 
the Chapel after breakfast, where there are wonderful 
relics, and a famous pavement in majolica. 

About 3 we started off for St. Peter's. We had all 
brought our veils with us, and retired to Bebella's dressing- 
room where her maid arranged our heads. We left a pile 
of hats which Bebella promised to send home for us, and 
took ourselves off to the Vatican, taking little Victoria 
Ruspoli with us, who looked quite sweet in her white dress 
and veil — her great dark eyes bright with excitement. 
We found many carriages in the court, as we got to the 
Vatican, and many more soldiers on the stairs, and about 
in the passages. The rooms and long galleiy were 
crowded — all sorts of people, priests, women, young men, 
children (some very nice-looking people) all speaking 
French. W^e went at first into the gallery, but there was 
such a crowd and such a smell of people closely packed 
that we couldn't stay, and just as we were wondering 
what to do, Monsignor Bicletis came through and at once 
told us to come with him. He took us through several 
rooms, one large one filled with people waiting for their 
audience, into the one next the Pope's, who he said was 
with Cardinal Mathieu, and would soon pass. We were 
quite alone in that room, except for three or four priests. 
In a few moments the Pope appeared with Cardinal Ma- 
thieu and quite a large suite. The Cardinal, who had 
promised to present Madame de B. (there had been some 



256 ITALIAN LETTERS [Feb. 

delay about her convocation), came up to us at once. We 
all knelt as the Pope came near, and he named Madame de 
B. and little Victoria, who asked for his blessing for her 
brothers. He recognised me and Bessie, and said we 
were welcome always at the Vatican. He only said a 
few words to Madame de B. as he had a long afternoon 
before him. Cardinal Mathieu told us to follow them, 
so we closed up behind the suite, and followed the Pope's 
procession. 

There must have been over a hundred people waiting 
in the next room, and it was an impressive sight to see 
them all — men, women, and children — kneel as the Pope 
appeared. Some of the children were quite sweet, hold- 
ing out their little hands full of medals and rosaries to 
be blessed — almost all the girls in white, with white 
veils, like the little first communiantes in France. The 
Pope made his " cercle," speaking to almost every one — 
sometimes only a word, sometimes quite a little talk. 
We followed him through one or two rooms to the open 
loggia, which was crowded. We were very hot, but he 
sent for his cloak and hat. We waited some little time 
but the crowd was so dense — he would have spoken from 
the other end of the loggia — and we couldn't possibly 
have got through — so we came away, having had again 
a very interesting afternoon. 

It is most picturesque driving around the back of St. 
Peter's and the Vatican. There are such countless turns 
and courts and long stretches of high walls with little 
narrow windows quite up at the top. Always people 
coming and going — cardinals' carriages with their black 
horses, fiacres with tourists looking eagerly about them 
and speaking every possible language, priests, women in 
black with black veils, little squads of Papal troops march- 
ing across the squares — and Italian soldiers keeping order 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 257 

in the great piazza. A curious little old world in the 
midst of the cosmopolitan town Rome has become. 



Rome, March 2d. 

Yesterday Madame de B. and I made an expedition to 
the Catacombs of San Calisto fuori Porta San Sebastiano. 
It was decidedly cold and we were very glad we hadn't 
taken the open carriage. The drive out was charming — 
first inside the gates, passing the Colosseum, the two great 
arches of Constantine and Titus, and directly under the 
Palatine Hill and Baths of Caracalla, and then going out 
through the narrow little gateway, and for some little 
distance through high stone walls, we came upon the 
countless towers, tombs and columns standing alone in 
the middle of the fields, having no particular connection 
with anything, that mark the Appian Way, and make it 
so extraordinarily interesting and unlike any other drive 
in the world. I was delighted when we came upon that 
funny little stone house, built on the top of a high circu- 
lar tomb — I remembered it perfectly. 

The Catacombs stand in a sort of garden or vineyard. 
There were people already there, and a party just prepar- 
ing to go down as we appeared. They had asked for a 
guide who spoke French, as they knew no Italian, and a 
nice-looking, intelligent young monk was marshalling his 
party and lighting the tapers. I thought they were 
rather short (I am rather nervous about subterraneous 
expeditions and one has heard gruesome tales of people 
lost in the Catacombs, not so very long ago) but they 
lasted quite well. 

It was curious to see all the old symbols again — the 
fish, the pax (cross) and to think what they represented 
to the early bands of Christians, when the mere fact of 



258 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

being a Christian meant persecution, suffering, and often 
a terrible death in the arena of the Colosseum, 

Some of the frescoes are wonderfully preserved — we 
saw quite well the heads of saints, martyrs, and decora- 
tions of wreaths of flowers or a delicate arabesque tra- 
cery; the most favourite subjects were Jonah and the 
whale, a shepherd with a lamb on his shoulders, and 
kneeling women's figures. The ladies in our party were 
wildly interested in the mummies (terrible looking 
things), particularly one with the hair quite visible. We 
saw of course the niche where the body of Ste. Cecilia was 
found — but the body is now removed to the church of Ste, 
Cecilia in the Trastevere, They have put, however, a 
model of the body, representing it exactly, in the niche, so 
the illusion is quite possible. 

We walked about for an hour, following quantities of 
narrow passages, coming suddenly into small round 
rooms, which had been chapels, and still seeing in some 
of the stone coffins bits of bones, and inscriptions on the 
walls. It was rather weird to see the procession moving 
along, Indian file, holding their tapers, which gave a 
faint, flickering light. The guide had rather a bigger 
one — on the end of a long stick. We stopped at San 
Clemente on our way back, hoping to see the underground 
church, but it was too late. The sacristan said we should 
have come yesterday — there was a fete, and the two 
churches were illuminated. 

Friday, 4th. 
It has been another beautiful day. I trammed over 
to the Vatican to see the Sistine Chapel this time and the 
Stanze and Loggie of Raphael. It is a good pull up to 
the Sistine Chapel, by a rather dark staircase, but the day 
was so bright I saw everything very well when I once 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 259 

got there. The Vatican was very full — people in every 
direction — almost all English and German — I didn't hear 
a word of French or Italian. Two young men were 
stretched out flat on their backs on one of the benches, 
trying to get a good look at the ceiling through their 
glasses. I was delighted to see the Stanze again with 
many old friends. Do you remember the " Poesia " on 
the ceiling of one of the rooms — a lovely figure clad in 
light blue draperies, with a young, pure face? I wan- 
dered up and down the Loggie, but I think I was more 
interested looking down into the Court of San Damaso, 
filled with carriages, priests, women in black with black 
veils coming and going (I should think the Pope would 
be exhausted with all the people he sees) and the general 
little clerical bustle. The striped Swiss guard were 
lounging about in the gateway, and a fine stately porter 
in cocked hat and long red cloak at each door. 

Josephine had a dinner in the evening — Cardinal 
Mathieu, the Austrian Ambassador to the Vatican and 
his wife, and other notabilities. There was quite a large 
reception after dinner, among others the Grand Duchess 
of Saxe-Weimar, who is very easy, charming — likes to 
see everybody. When I came downstairs to dinner I 
found all the ladies with lace fichus or boas on their 
shoulders, and I was told that I was quite incorrect — that 
one couldn't appear decolletee in a cardinal's presence. 
I could find nothing in my hurry when I went back to my 
room, but a little (very little) ermine cravat, but still even 
that modified my low body somewhat, and at least showed 
that my intentions were good. The big red salon looks 
charming in the evening and is a most becoming room — 
the dark red silk walls show off the dresses so well. The 
cardinal had his whist, or rather his bridge, after dinner, 
for even the Church has succumbed to the universal craze 



l6o ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

— one sees all the ecclesiastics in Black circles just as in- 
tent upon their game and criticising their partner's play 
quite as keenly as the most ardent clubmen. I suppose 
bridge is a pleasure to those who play, but they don't look 
as though they were enjoying themselves — their faces so 
set and drawn, any interruption a catastrophe, and nobody 
ever satisfied with his partner's play. 

We had very good music. An American protege of 
Josephine's w-ith a good high barytone voice sang very 
well, and the young French trio (all eleves du Conserva- 
toire de Paris) really played extremely well. The piano 
in one of Mendelssohn's trios was quite charming — so 
sure and delicate. It was a pleasure to see the young, 
refined, intelligent faces so absorbed in their music, quite 
indifferent to the gallery. The young violinist played a 
romance (I forget what — Rubinstein, I think) with so 
much sentiment that I said to him " Vous etes trop jeune 
pour jouer avec tant d'ame," to which he replied proudly, 
" Madame, j'ai vingt ans." C'est beau d'avoir vingt 
ans. I wonder how many of us at fifty remember how 
we thought and felt at twenty. Perhaps there would be 
fewer heart-burnings in the world if we older ones did 
remember sometimes our own youth. 

Sunday, March 6th. 
Yesterday I walked up to Santa Maria Maggiore and 
San Giovanni in Laterano. I took the Scala Santa on 
my way to San Giovanni. Several people were going 
up — some priests, Italian soldiers, two or three peasants 
and two ladies — mother and daughter, I should think, 
their long black cloth dresses very much in their way 
evidently. I watched them for some time. I wonder 
what it means to them, and if they really believe that they 
are the steps from Jerusalem which our Saviour came 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 261 

clown. I stayed some little time in San Giovanni. It is 
magnificent certainly, but there is too much gilding and 
mosaic and modern decoration. The view from the steps 
was enchanting when I came out; the air was delicious, 
the sun bright in a bright blue sky, and the mountains 
soft and purple in the distance. 

We had an interesting breakfast — two Benedictine 
monks from the great abbaye of Solesmes. They talked 
very moderately about their expulsion, and the wrench 
it was to leave the old monastery and begin life again in 
new surroundings. The older man especially seemed to 
feel it very much. I suppose he had spent all his life 
inside those old grey walls — reading and meditating and 
bound up in the interests and routine of his order. They 
had come to Rome to see the Pope, and consult with him 
about suppressing secular music in the churches, and sub- 
stituting the Gregorian chants everywhere. It is a very 
difficult question ; of course some of the music they have 
now in the churches is impossible. When you hear the 
" Meditation de Thais " played at some ceremony, and 
you think what Thais was, it is out of the question to ad- 
mit such music in a church — on the other hand the strict 
Gregorian chant is very severe, particularly sung with- 
out any organ. I daresay educated musicians would pre- 
fer it, but to the ordinary assemblage, accustomed to the 
great peal of the organ with occasionally, in the country 
for instance at some festa, the national anthem or some 
well-known military march being played, the monotonous, 
old-world chant would say nothing. We shall hear them 
at the great festival at St. Peter's for San Gregorio. 

Thursday, loth. 
It was warm and lovely Tuesday. Bessie, Josephine 
and I walked down to J.'s work-room in the Convent of 



l6l ' ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

St. Euphemia, somewhere beyond Trajan's Forum, before 
breakfast. It was too warm walking along the broad 
street by the Quirinal. We were thankful to take little 
dark narrow side streets. The " ouvroir " (work-room) 
was interesting — quantities of women and girls working 
— some of the work, fine lingerie, lace-mending, embroid- 
ery beautifully done. It is managed by sisters, under Jose- 
phine's direction, who gives a great deal of time and 
thought to her work. They take in any child or girl from 
the street, feed- them and have them taught whatever they 
can do. It was pretty to see the little smiling faces and 
bright eyes as Josephine passed through the rooms. 

We went to a pleasant tea in the afternoon at Countess 
Gianotti's (wife of Count Gianotti, Master of Ceremo- 
nies to the King). There were quite a number of people 
— a very cosmopolitan society (she herself is an Ameri- 
can) and she gave us excellent waffles. 

Yesterday we had a delightful excursion with Coun- 
tess de Bertheny in her automobile. She came to get me 
and Bessie about ii. We picked up two young men and 
started for Nemi and the Castelli Romani. We drove 
straight out from Porta San Giovanni to Albano. It 
was quite lovely all the way, particularly when we began 
the steep ascent of Albano, and looked back — the Cam- 
pagna a beautiful stretch of purple, the aqueducts stand- 
ing well out all around us, and the statues of San Gio- 
vanni just visible and looking enormous, in the mist that 
always hangs over Rome, St. Peter's a great white spot 
with the sun full upon it. We rattled through Albano. 
The streets looked animated, full of people, all getting 
out of our way as fast as they could. 

The door into the Doria Villa was open; we just had 
a glimpse of the garden which looked cool and green, 
with a perspective of long walks, ending in a sort of 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE iG^ 

bosquet, but we passed so quickly that it was merely 
a fleeting impression. We drove through Ariccia to 
Gensano — a beautiful road, splendid trees, making a 
perfect shade, the great Chigi Palace looking just the 
same, a huge grim pile — quite the old chateau fort, built 
at the entrance of the little village to protect it from in- 
vading enemies. If stones could speak I wonder what 
they would say to modern inventions, automobiles, huge 
monsters certainly, but peaceful ones, rushing past, trains 
puffing and smoking along the Campagna, great carts 
drawn by fine white oxen going lazily along, the driver 
generally asleep under his funny little tent of red or blue 
linen, and nobody thinking of harm. 

We drove through Gensano, then turned off sharp to 
the left to Nemi — a fairly good road. We soon came in 
sight of the lake, which looked exactly as I remembered 
it — a lifeless blue, like a deep cup surrounded by green 
hills. They used to tell us, I remember, that there were 
no fish, no living thing in the lake, but Ruspoli says there 
are plenty now — very good ones. 

We followed a beautiful winding road up to Nemi, 
which is a compact little village on the top of a hill — the 
great castle standing out well. It has just been bought 
by Don Enrico Ruspoli, and he and his charming Ameri- 
can wife are making it most picturesque and livable. We 
breakfasted at the little Hotel de Nemi — not at all bad — 
the dining-room opening on a terrace with such a view 
— at our feet the Campagna rolling away its great waves 
of blue purple to a bright dazzling white streak, the sea — 
on one side a stretch of green valley leading to all the 
different little villages ; on the other the lake with its 
crown of olive-covered hills. 

Just as we were finishing breakfast Ruspoli appeared 
to ask us if we would come and see the castle. We en- 



264 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

tered directly from the little square of the town — the 
big doors face the church. There is a fine stone stair- 
case, and halls and rooms innumerable. They have only 
just begun to work on it — have made new floors (a sort 
of mosaic, small stones, just as I remember them at Fras- 
cati in Villa Marconi) and put water everywhere, but 
there is still a great deal to do. The proportions of the 
rooms are beautiful, and the view divine. As in all old 
Italian castles some of the village houses were built 
directly into the wall of the castle. They have already 
bought and knocked down many of these (giving the in- 
habitants instead comfortable, clean, modern houses 
which they probably won't like nearly as well) and are 
arranging a beautiful garden in their place. They have 
also a terrace planted with trees about half-way down the 
slope to the lake, which would be a divine place to read 
or dream away a long summer's day. I don't think there 
are ten yards of level ground on the place. 

We couldn't stay very long as we were going on to 
Frascati and Castle Gondolfo. They gave us tea, and 
when we came out on the piazza we found the whole vil- 
lage congregated around the automobiles (another had 
arrived from Rome — I am so cross I didn't bring mine 
with Strutz, it would have been so convenient for all the 
excursions). It is a wild beautiful spot, but I should 
think lonely. We went back to Albano, saw the great 
bridge built by Pio Nono, with its three tiers of arches, 
the famous tombs — Horatii, Curiatii and Pompey, and 
then drove along the beautiful " galeria di sotto " to 
Castle Gondolfo, the old crooked ilex trees nearly meeting 
over our heads, and the Campagna with lovely lights and 
shades flitting over it, far down at our feet. There 
everything looked exactly as I remembered it. It seemed 
to me the same priests were walking about under the 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 265 

trees, the same men riding minute donkeys, with their 
legs nearly touching the ground; the same great carts, 
lumbering peacefully along, the driver usually asleep 
until the horn of the automobile close behind him roused 
him into frantic energy ; however they were all most 
smiling, evidently don't hate the auto as they do in some 
parts of France. 

We stopped at the Villa Barberini at Castle Gondolfo 
— such a beautiful garden, but so neglected — great long 
dark walks, trees like high black walls on each side, and 
big bushes of white and red camellias almost as tall as the 
trees, roses just beginning. In every direction broken 
columns, vases, statues (minus arms and legs) carved 
benches, all falling to pieces. We went into the Villa 
which is usually let to strangers, but it was most primi- 
tive — brick floors everywhere (except in the salons, 
where there was always the mosaic pavement), and the 
simplest description of furniture — ordinary iron bed- 
steads, and iron trepieds in the master's bed-rooms, but a 
magnificent view of sea and Campagna from the balcony, 
and a beautiful cool, bracing air. 

We drove on through Marino and Frascati. We 
passed the little chapel on the road where we used to see 
all the people praying the great cholera year. It was 
open, and one or two women were kneeling just inside. 
The atmosphere was so transparent that Rocca di Papa 
and Monte Cavo seemed quite near. The Piazza of 
Frascati was just the same, the Palazzo Marconi at one 
side with the great x\ldobrandini Villa overtopping it 
and the Villa Torlonia opposite. We didn't go into the 
town, but took the steep road down by the railway station. 
There everything is changed — it didn't seem at all the 
Frascati we had once lived in — quantities of new, ugly 
villas, and an enormous modern Grand Hotel. 



266 ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

We got home about 6.30 — the Campagna quite beauti- 
ful and quiet in the soft evening Hght. There were very 
few people on the road, every now and then a shepherd 
in his long sheepskin cloak, staff and broad-brimmed hat 
appearing on the top of one of the many little mounds 
wdiich are dotted all over the Campagna, and occasionally 
in the distance a dog barking. 

March 17th. 

Bessie and I have just come in from the last meet of 
the season at Cecilia Metella. It is such a favourite 
rendezvous that there is always a great crowd, almost 
as many people walking about on the Campagna as riding. 
It was a very pretty sight. There were quantities of 
handsome horses, but I don't know that it was quite com- 
fortable walking when the hunt moved off. Some of the 
young men — principally officers — were taking preliminary 
gallops in every direction, and jumping backward and for- 
ward over a large ditch. One of them knocked down an 
Englishwoman — at least I don't think he really knocked 
her, but he alighted so near her that she was frightened, 
and slipped getting out of his way. We stopped to speak 
to her, but she said she wasn't at all hurt, and had friends 
with her. The master of the hounds — Marchese Roc- 
cagiovine — didn't look very pleased, and I should think a 
large, motley field, with a good many women and care- 
less riders, would be most trying to a real sportsman, 
such as he is. Giovanni Borghese told me there were 
two hundred people riding, and I can quite believe it. 

We had a delightful day yesterday, but rather a 
fatiguing one — I am still tired. We made an excursion 
(a family party — Bessie, Josephine, her two children, 
Mr. Virgo and two of his friends — a Catholic priest and 
a student preparing for orders — all Englishmen). We 



I904J OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 267 

went by train to Frascati, and from there to Tusculum, 
carrying our breakfast with us. We passed the httle Cam- 
pagna station (Ciampino) where we have stopped so often. 
Do you remember the old crazy-looking station, and the 
station-master, yellow and shivering, and burned up with 
fever. Now it is quite a busy little place, people getting 
on and off the trains and one or two brisk porters. The 
arrival at Frascati was a sight. We were instantly sur- 
rounded by a crowd of donkey-boys and carriages — nice 
little victorias with red flowers in the horses' heads and 
feathers in the coachmen's hats — all talking at the top of 
their voices ; but between Mr. Virgo and Pietro, Jose- 
phine's Italian footman, who had charge of the valise 
with the luncheon, we soon came to terms, and declined 
all carriages, taking three or four donkeys. 

It isn't a long walk to Tusculum, and Josephine and I 
both preferred walking — besides I don't think I should 
have had the courage to mount in the piazza w^ith all the 
crowd looking on and making comments ; however, Bes- 
sie did, and she sat her donkey very lightly and grace- 
fully, making a great effect with her red hat and red 
parasol. Perhaps the most interesting show was Pietro. 
He was so well dressed in a light grey country suit that 
I hardly recognised him. He stoutly refused to be 
separated from his valise, put it in front of him on the 
donkey, sat well back himself and beamed at the whole 
party. He is a typical Italian servant — perfectly intelli- 
gent, perfectly devoted (can neither read nor write), 
madly interested in everybody, but never familiar nor 
wanting in respect. I ask him for everything I want. 
He does it, or has it done at once, better and cheaper than 
I could, and I am quite satisfied when I hear his delight- 
ful phrase " Ci penso io " — I am sure it will be done. 

We went up through the Aldobrandini garden. It 



268 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

looked rather deserted ; no one ever lives there now, but 
it is let occasionally to strangers. Men were working in 
the garden ; there were plenty of violets and a few roses 
— it is still early in the season for them. In a basin of 
one of the fountains a pink water-lily — only one — quite 
beautiful. The fountains were lovely — sparkling, splash- 
ing, living — everything else seemed so dead. 

As we wound up the steep paths we had enchanting 
views of the Campagna, looking like a great blue sea, at 
our feet, and Rome seemed a long, low line of sunlight, 
with the dome of St. Peter's hanging above it in the 
clouds. The road was very steep, and decidedly sunny, 
so I mounted my donkey. Father Evans walking along- 
side. Monte Cavo, Rocca di Papa, the Madonna del 
Tufo, all seemed very near, it was so clear and the air 
was delicious as we got higher. I recognised all the well- 
known places, the beginning of the Roman pavement, the 
Columbarium, Cicero's house, etc. 

We were quite ready for breakfast when we got to 
Tusculum, and looked about for a shady spot under the 
trees. There are two great stones, almost tables, in the 
middle of the " amfiteatro," where people usually spread 
out their food, but the sun was shining straight down on 
them ; we didn't think we could stand that. We found a 
nice bit of grass under the trees and established ourselves 
there. It was quite a summer's day, and the rest and quiet 
after toiling up the steep paths was delightful. 

After breakfast Josephine and I walked quite up to the 
top of the hill, the trees making a perfect dome of verdure 
over our heads. There was no sound except our own 
voices, and the distant thud of horses' feet cantering in a 
meadow alongside, an absolute stillness everywhere. 
Such a view ! Snow on the Sabine Mountains, sun on 
the Alban Hills, the Campagna on either side blue and 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 269 

broken like waves, and quite distinct, a long white line, 
the sea. 

While we were walking about we noticed two cara- 
binieri, very well mounted, who seemed to be always 
hovering near us, so we asked them what they were 
doing up there. They promptly replied, taking care 
of the " societa." We could hardly believe we heard 
rightly ; but it was quite true, they were there for us. 
They told us that when it was known that a number of 
people were coming up to Tusculum (there were two 
other parties besides us) they had orders to come up, keep 
us always in sight, and stay as long as we did. We gave 
them some wine and sandwiches, and they became quite 
communicative — told us there were brigands and " cattiva 
gente " (wicked people) about; that at Rocca di Papa, 
one of the little mountain villages quite near, there were 
500 inhabitants, 450 of whom had been in prison for 
various crimes, and that people were constantly robbed in 
these parts. I wouldn't have believed it if any one had 
told us, but they always kept us in sight. 

We decided to go home through the Villa Ruffinella. 
Donkeys are not allowed inside, and we thought prob- 
ably not horses either, but the carabinieri came in and 
showed us the way down. The grounds are splendid — 
we walked first down through a beautiful green allee, 
then up, a good climb. The villa is enormous — unin- 
habited and uncared for — a charming garden and great 
terrace with stone benches before the house looking 
toward Rome. The garden, of course, wild and ragged, 
but with splendid possibilities. Just outside the gate we 
came upon a little church. Three or four girls and 
women with bright-coloured skirts and fichus and quanti- 
ties of coarse jet-black hair were sitting on the steps 
working at what looked like coarse crochet work and 



270 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

talking hard. The carabinieri were always near, opened 
two or three gates for us, and only left us when we were 
quite close to the town, well past the gates of the Aldo- 
brandini Villa. 

As we had some little time before the train started, I 
went off with Bessie to have a look at Palazzo Marconi. 
It is now occupied by the municipio and quite changed. 
We found a youth downstairs who couldn't imagine what 
we wanted and why we wanted to go up ; however, I ex- 
plained that I had lived there many years ago, so finally 
he agreed to go up with us. The steps looked more worn 
and dirty — quite broken in some places — and the frescoes 
on the walls, which were bright blue and green in our 
time, are almost effaced. It was all so familiar and yet 
so changed. I went into father's room and opened the 
window on the terrace, where we had stood so often 
those hot August nights, watching the mist rise over the 
Campagna and the moon over the sea. There was very 
little furniture anywhere — a few chairs and couches in 
the small salon that we had made comfortable enough 
with our own furniture from Rome. The great round 
room with the marble statues has been turned into a 
salle de conseil, with a big writing-table in the middle, 
and chairs ranged in a semicircle around the room. 
There was nothing at all in our old bed-rooms — piles of 
cartons in one corner. The marble bath-tub was black 
and grimy. We couldn't see the dining-room, people 
were in it, but w^e went out to the hanging-garden — all 
weeds, and clothes hanging out to dry. The fountain 
was going at the back of the court, but covered with moss, 
and bits of stone were dropping off. It all looked very 
miserable — I don't think I shall ever care to go back. 
There seemed just the same groups of idle men standing 
about as in our time — dozens of them doing nothing, 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 271 

hanging over the wall looking at the people come up from 
the railway station. They tell me they never work ; even 
when they own little lots of land or vignas they don't 
work themselves — the peasants from the Abruzzi come 
down at stated seasons, dig and plant and do all the work. 
One can't understand it, for they look a tall, fine race, all 
these peasants of the Castelli Romani, strong, well-fed, 
broad-shouldered. I suppose there must be a strong touch 
of indolence in all the Latin races. 

It was after six when we got back to Rome. We had 
just time to rush home, get clean gloves and long skirts, 
and start for the Massimo Palace to see the great fete. 
Once a year the palace is opened to the general public, 
and the whole of Rome goes upstairs and into the chapel. 
It is on St. Philippe's day, when a miracle was performed 
in the Massimo family, a dead boy resuscitated in 165 1. 
There was a crowd assembled as we drove up, tramways 
stopped, and the getting across the pavement was rather 
difficult. The walls of the palace and portico were hung 
with red and gold draperies, the porter and footman in 
gala liveries, the old beggars squatted about inside the 
portico, the gardes municipaux keeping order, and a 
motley crowd struggling up the grand staircase — priests, 
women, children, femmes du monde, peasants, policemen, 
forestieri, two cooks in their white vestons, nuns, Cappu- 
cini — all striving and jostling to get along. We stopped 
at Bebella's apartment, who gave us tea. She had been 
receiving all day, but almost every one had gone. We 
talked to her a few moments, and then d'Arsoli took us 
upstairs to the chapel (by no means an easy performance, 
as there were two currents going up and coming down). 
The chapel was brilliantly lighted, and crowded ; a benedi- 
zione was going on, with very good music from the 
Pope's chapel — those curious, high, unnatural voices. All 



I-JI ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

the relics were exposed, and Prince Massimo, in dress 
clothes and white cravat, was standing at the door. It 
was a most curious sight. D'Arsoli told us that people 
had begun to come at seven in the morning. When 
we went home there was still a crowd on the staircase, 
stretching out into the street, and a long line of tram- 
cars stopped. 

Friday, March i8th. 
It rained rather hard this morning, but we three got 
ourselves into the small carriage and went down to 
the Accademia di Santa Cecilia to hear the Benedictine 
monk Don Guery try the Gregorian chants with the big 
organ. The organ is a fine one, made at Nuremberg. 
An organist arrived from St. Anselmo to accompany the 
chants. They sounded very fine, but I thought rather 
too melodious and even modern, but Don Guery assured 
me that the one I particularly noticed was of the eleventh 
century. 

Tuesday, 2 2d. 
We seem always to be doing something, but have had 
two quiet evenings this week. Friday night we went 
to the Valle to see Marchesa Rudini's Fete de Bienfai- 
sance. The heat was something awful, as the house was 
packed, and as at all amateur performances they were 
unpunctual, and there were terribly long intervals. The 
comedie was well acted, a little long, but the clou of 
the evening was the ballet-pantomime, danced by all 
the prettiest women in Rome. The young Marchesa 
Rudini (nee Labouchere) looked charming as a white 
and silver butterfly, and danced beautifully, such pretty 
style, not a gesture nor a pas that any one could object 
to. The rest of the troop too were quite charming, 
coming in by couples — the Princess Teano and Therese 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 273 

Pecoul a picture — both tall, one dark, one fair, and mak- 
ing a lovely contrast. I should think they must have 
made a lot of money. 

Saturday I had a pleasant afternoon at the Palazzo 
dei Cesari with Mr. and Mrs. Seth Low. He is an excel- 
lent guide, had already been all over the palace with Boni 
and knew exactly what to show us. It was a beautiful 
afternoon and the view over Rome, the seven hills, and 
the Forum was divine. These first Roman Emperors 
certainly knew where to pitch their tents — what a mag- 
nificent scale they built upon in those days. The old 
Augustus must have seen wonderful sights in the Forum 
from the heights of the Palatine. 

Josephine had a large dinner in the evening for the 
Grand Duchess and Cardinal Vannutelli. It was very 
easy and pleasant, and we all wore our little fichus 
most correctly as long as the Cardinal was there (they 
never stay very long), but were glad to let them slip off 
as soon as he went away, for we had a great many peo- 
ple in the evening and the rooms were warm. I had 
rather an interesting talk with an old Italian friend (not 
a Roman) over the tremendous influx of strangers and 
Italians from all parts of Italy to Rome. He says au 
fond the Romans hate it — they liked the old life very 
much better — they were of much more importance; it 
meant something then to be a Roman prince. Now, with 
all the Northern Italians, Court people and double Dip- 
lomatic Corps Rome has become too cosmopolitan. Peo- 
ple amuse themselves, and dance and hunt, and give din- 
ners at the Grand Hotel and trouble themselves very little 
about the old Roman families (particularly those who have 
lost money and don't receive any more). The Romans 
have a feeling of being put aside in their own place. 

It was beautiful this morning, so I took my conven- 



274 ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

ient tram again and went over to see the pictures of the 
Vatican. Such a typical peasant couple were in the tram, 
evidently just down from the mountains, as they were 
looking about at everything, and were rather nervous 
when the tram made a sudden stop. The woman (young 
and rather pretty) had on a bright blue skirt, a white 
shirt with a red corset over it, a pink flowered apron, green 
fichu on her head, and long gold ear-rings with a coral 
centre. The man, a big broad-shouldered fellow, had the 
long cloak with the cape lined with green that the men 
all wear here, and a slouched hat drawn low down over 
his brows. They got out at St. Peter's and went into 
the church. I went around by the Colonnade as I was 
going to the pictures. There were lots of people on the 
stairs. It certainly is a good stiff pull up. 

I stayed about an hour looking at the pictures — all 
hanging exactly where I had always seen them, except 
the Sposalizio of St. Catherine, which was on an easel 
near the window ; some one evidently copying it. I was 
quite horrified coming back through the Stanze by some 
English people — three women — who were calmly lunch- 
ing in one corner of the room. They were all seated, 
eating sandwiches out of a paper bag, and drinking out 
of a large green bottle. Everybody stopped and looked 
at them, and they didn't mind at all. The gardien 
was looking on like all the rest. I was so astounded at 
his making no remarks that I said to him, surely such a 
thing is forbidden ; to which he replied smilingly : " No 
— no, non fanno male a nessnno — non fanno niente d'in- 
decente " (No, they are doing no harm to any one, they 
are doing nothing indecent). That evidently was quite 
true ; but I must say I think it required a certain courage 
to continue their repast with all the public looking on, 
giggling and criticising freely. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 275 

I dined this evening with Malcohn Kahn — Persian 
Minister — and an old colleague of ours in London. It 
was very pleasant — General Brusatti, one of the King's 
Aides-de-Camp, took me in, and I had Comte Greppi, 
ancien Ambassadeur, on the other side. Greppi is mar- 
vellous — really a very old man, but as straight as an 
arrow, and remembering everybody. Tittone, Minister 
of Foreign Affairs, was there, but I wasn't near him at 
table, which I regretted, as I should have liked to talk 
to him. 

Palm Sunday, March 27th. 
Bessie and I went to the American church this morn- 
ing, and afterward to the Grand Hotel to breakfast with 
some friends. The restaurant was crowded, so many 
people have arrived for Easter, and it was decidedly 
amusing — a great many pretty women and pretty dresses. 
It poured when we came away. We had all promised 
to go to an amateur performance of the Stabat Mater 
at the old Doria Palace in Piazza Navona. It was rather 
damp, with draughts in every direction, so Mrs. Law 
and I decided we w'ould not stay to the end, but would 
go for a drive until it was time to go back to tea at the 
Grand Hotel (it is rather funny, the first month I was 
here I never put my foot in the Grand Hotel, and I was 
rather disappointed, as tea there in the Palm Garden with 
Tziganes playing, is one of the great features of modern 
Rome, and now I am there nearly every day). It was 
coming down in torrents when we came out of the con- 
cert, and a drive seemed insane, so I suggested a turn in 
St. Peter's (which is always a resource on a rainy day in 
Rome). That seemed difficult to accomplish, though, 
when we arrived at the steps — we couldn't have gone up 
those steps and across the wide space at the top without 



276 ITALIAN LETTERS [march 

getting completely soaked. However I remembered old 
times, and told the man to drive around to the Sagres- 
tia. He protested, so did all the beggars around the 
steps, who wanted to open the door of the carriage. We 
couldn't get in — the door was shut, etc., but I thought we 
would try, so accordingly we drove straight to the 
Sagrestia. The door was open — a man standing there 
who opened the carriage door and told the coachman 
where to stand. I don't think I ever saw rain come down 
so hard, and so straight. It was very interesting walk- 
ing through all the passages at the back of St. Peter's, 
and into the church through the sacristy, where priests 
and children were robing and just starting for some ser- 
vice with tapers and palms in their hands. We followed 
the procession, and found ourselves just about in the mid- 
dle of the church. There were still draperies hanging 
on the columns and seats marked off. There had been 
a ceremony of some kind in the morning, and a great 
many people were walking about. We stopped some 
little time at the great bronze statue of St. Peter. I 
was astounded at the quantity and quality of people who 
came up and kissed the toe of the Saint. Priests and 
nuns of course, and old people, both men and women, 
but it seemed extraordinary to me to see young men, tall, 
good-looking fellows, bend down quite as reverently as 
the others and kiss the toe. They were singing in one 
of the side chapels — we listened for a little while — and 
all over the church everywhere people kneeling on the 
pavement. 

We went back to the Grand Hotel for tea, and dined 
with the young Ruspolis, who have a handsome apartment 
in the Colonna Palace. The dinner was for the Grand 
Duchess, and was pleasant enough. There was a small 
reception in the evening, and almost every one went after- 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 277 

ward to Princesse Pallavicini's who receives on Sunday- 
evening. I like the informal evening receptions here 
very much. It is a pleasant way of finishing the evening 
after a dinner, and so much more agreeable than the day 
receptions — at least you do see a few men in the evening 
— whereas they all fly from afternoons and teas. As 
every one receives there is always some house to go to. 

Monday, March 28th. 

I have had a nice solitary morning in the Forum, with 
my beloved Italian guide book, a little English brochure 
with a map of the principal sights, and occasional con- 
versations with the workmen, of whom there are many, 
as they are excavating in every direction, and German 
tourists. The Germans, I must say, are always ex- 
tremely well up in antiquities, and quite ready to impart 
their information to others. They are a little long some- 
times, but one usually finds that they know what they are 
talking about. 

There are of course great changes since I have seen the 
Forum. They are excavating and working here all the 
time. The King takes a great interest in all that sort of 
work, and often appears, it seems, early in the morning 
and unexpectedly, when anything important is going on. 
The Basilica Julia (enormous) has been quite opened out 
since my day; and another large temple opposite is most 
interesting, with splendid bits left of marble pavement 
— some quite large squares of pink marble that were 
beautiful; and in various places quantities of coins melted 
and incrusted in the marble which looks as if the temple 
had been destroyed by a fire. 

There was little shade anywhere. I hadn't the cour- 
age to walk in the sun as far as the Vestals' house, which 
is really most interesting. The recent excavations have 



278 ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

brought to light so many rooms, passages, frescoes, etc., 
that the ordinary, every-day hfe of the Vestal Virgins has 
been quite reconstructed. One could follow them in their 
daily avocations. From where I was sitting I could see 
some of the great statues — some of the figures in quite 
good preservation, two of them holding their lamps. I 
found a nice square stone, and sat there lazily taking 
in the enchanting views on all sides — the Palatine Hill 
behind me, the Capitol on one side, on the other the three 
enormous arches of the Temple of Constantine; at my 
feet the Via Sacra running straight away to the Colos- 
seum, the sky a deep, soft blue throwing out every line 
and bit of sculpture on the countless pillars, temples and 
arches that spring up on all sides. From a height, the 
Palatine Hill, for instance, the Forum always looks to 
me like an enormous cemetery — one loses the impression 
of each separate building or ruin. It might be a street 
of tombs rather than the busy centre of a great city. 

There were plenty of people going about — bands of 
Cook's tourists being personally conducted and instructed. 
If the gentleman who explains Roman history gives the 
same loose rein to his imagination as the one we used to 
hear in Versailles conducting the British public through 
the Historical Portrait Gallery, the present generation 
will have curious ideas as to the deeds of daring and won- 
derful rule of all the Augustuses and Vespasians who 
have made the Palace of the Caesars the keystone of mag- 
nificent and Imperial Rome ; and again " unwritten his- 
tory " will be responsible for many wonderful statements. 
However, I wasn't near enough to hear the explanations. 
People were still coming in when I left, and all the way 
home I met carriages filled with strangers. 

We went out again rather late. I went for tea to 
Marchesa Vitelleschi, and before I came away Vitelleschi 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 279 

came in. I wanted to see him to thank him for sending 
me his book, a Roman novel, " Roma che se ne va." * It 
is very cleverly written, and an excellent picture of the 
Rome of 35 years ago, as we first knew it. I should 
think it would interest English and Americans very much, 
I wonder he hasn't translated it. 

I found quite a party assembled in the little green salon 
when I got back — Don Guery, the Benedictine monk, who 
wishes to arrange a concert with Josephine for her chari- 
ties, and M. Alphonse Mustel, who has just come from 
Paris with his beautiful organ. He arrived this morn- 
ing early and hadn't yet found a room anywhere — all the 
hotels crowded. They say that for years they haven't 
had so many strangers for Holy Week. He is coming 
to play here Thursday afternoon. 

We had a quiet evening, and after dinner Mr. Virgo 
read to us the book I am so mad about, " The Call of the 
Wild." He read extremely well, and I liked the book 
even better hearing it read. It is a marvellous descrip- 
tion of that wild life in the Klondyke, and a beautiful 
poetical strain all through. The children listened atten- 
tively, were wildly interested, particularly when poor Buck 
was made to drag the sledge so heavily loaded, for 
his master to win his bet. We also want to read Car- 
dinal Mathieu's article in the " Revue des Deux Mondes," 
" Les derniers jours de Leon XIII."; but we have so 
rarely a quiet evening, and in the daytime every one is 
out in the beautiful Roman sunshine. 

We have all come upstairs early (ten o'clock) so I am 
profiting of a quiet hour to write, as I can't go to bed so 
early. This street is rather noisy. It is on the way to 
the station and some of the big hotels. Cabs and big 
omnibuses go through it all day and all night. I don't 

* Rome which is disappearing. 



a8o ITALIAN LETTERS [March 

mind the noise. I rather Hke the roar of a big city — it 
means Hfe. 

Thursday, March 31st. 

It is pouring to-day, and we have been out all day. I 
went to church this morning, but didn't get too wet with 
a thick serge dress and umbrella ; then to breakfast at the 
Grand Hotel with some friends, and an excursion to the 
Palace of the Csesars in prospect, under the guidance of 
Mr. Baddeley, who is an authority on all Roman antiqui- 
ties and a great friend of Boni's. It rained so hard when 
we were sitting in the Palm Garden for coffee, that it 
seemed impossible the drops shouldn't come through, and 
we looked to see if little puddles were not forming them- 
selves on the floor under our chairs, but no, it was quite 
dry. 

We started in shut carriages, thinking we would try for 
the Palace of the Csesars, where we could get refuge, but 
it was shut, so we went on to San Giovanni in Laterano, 
and had an interesting hour wandering about the church. 
Our guide had old artistic Rome at his fingers' ends, and 
it certainly makes all the difference in seeing the curious 
old tombs and monuments when one has some idea as to 
who the people were, and what sort of lives they led. 
Mr. Baddeley said, like all the people who really live in 
Italy, that the summer was the time to see Rome; that 
no one could imagine what a Roman " festa " was unless 
he had seen one in the height of summer, when the 
whole population was out and in the streets all day and 
all night, in a frenzy of amusement. No priests were in 
the streets ; a sort of tacit concession, or tolerance for just 
one or two occasions. 

We came back here for tea, as M. Mustel had prom- 
ised to play for us this afternoon, and Josephine had 
asked some of her friends. The organ sounded splen- 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 281 

didly in her big music-room, where there is httle furniture 
and no draperies to deaden the sound. He played of 
course extremely well, and brought out every sound of 
his instrument. Two preludes of Bach were quite beau- 
tiful; also the prelude of " Parsifal " — so much sound at 
times that it seemed an orchestra, and then again beau- 
tifully soft. We were all delighted with it. 

People stayed rather late, but Bessie and I and Sir 
Donald Wallace, who had come to tea, started off to St. 
Peter's. It is the tradition in Rome to go to St. Peter's 
on Holy Thursday. In our time the whole city went 
— it was quite a promenade de societe. I believe they 
do still, but we were rather late. The church looked 
quite beautiful as we drove up — brilliantly lighted, the 
big doors open, quantities of people going up the steps 
and through a double line of Italian soldiers into the 
church. The " Miserere " was over, but the chapel 
was still lighted, a good many people kneeling at the 
altar. The church was crowded, and every one pushing 
toward the grand altar, which was being washed. They 
were also exposing the relics from the two high bal- 
conies on each side of the altar. Many people were kneel- 
ing, and every now and then a procession came through 
the crowd of priests and choir-boys with banners, all 
chanting, and kneeling when they came near the altar — 
of course there was the usual collection of gaping, irrev- 
erent tourists, commenting audibly, and wondering if 
anybody really believed those were the actual nails that 
came out of the cross, or the thorn out of the Crown of 
Thorns, etc., etc., also " why are they making such a fuss 
washing their altar — why couldn't they do it this morn- 
ing when no one was in the church." 

We had some little difficulty in getting away, as the 
crowd was awful — getting worse every moment. It was 



282 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

beautiful when we did get out — the great Piazza quite 
black, a steady stream still pouring into the church. The 
lights from inside threw little bright spots on the gun- 
barrels and belts of the soldiers — the great mass of the 
Vatican quite black, with little lights twinkling high up 
in some of the windows. 

I am decidedly tired and stiff — I think being rained 
upon all day and standing on damp pavements and in 
windy corners is rather a trial to any one with rheumatic 
tendencies — «but I have enjoyed my day thoroughly, par- 
ticularly the end at St. Peter's. It so reminded me of 
old times when we used to go to all the ceremonies, begin- 
ning with the " Pastorale " at Christmas time and finish- 
ing with the Easter Benediction and " Girandola." 

We finished " The Call of the Wild " this evening, and 
now we must take something else. I should like the 
" Figlia di Jorio " of d'Annunzio. They say the Italian is 
quite beautiful, but the morals, I am afraid, are not of 
the same high order, I shall try and see it. 

Rome, Saturday, April 2, 1904. 
It was bright yesterday, but cold. The snow was quite 
thick on the Sabine Hills — they looked beautiful as we 
drove out into the country through Porta San Giovanni 
before going to the church of Santa Croce in Jeru- 
salemme, where Prince Colonna had asked us to come 
and see a curious ceremony — he himself carrying a cross 
at the head of a procession. Bessie and I with the two 
children and the dog (we would have left him in the 
carriage) tried to see some of the churches and hear 
some music, but there were such crowds everywhere 
that we couldn't get in, so we took a drive instead. 
There was such a crowd at Santa Croce that we couldn't 
have got anywhere near the altar if we hadn't had a card 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 283 

from Colonna ; that took us into the Sagrestia where they 
gave us chairs, and we sat there some httle time watch- 
ing all the " neri " (Blacks) assemble. They proposed 
to show us the relics to while away the time, so we were 
taken up a very steep staircase, along a narrow short 
passage to a small room where they are kept. The priest 
lighted tapers, made his little prayer, and then unveiled 
his treasures. There were pieces of the Cross, a nail, St. 
Thomas's unbelieving finger, and the inscription on a 
piece of wood that was over the Cross, " Jesus King of 
the Jews." It was an old, blackened, almost rotten 
square, with the inscription in Latin, hardly legible, but 
the priest showed us some letters and numbers that were 
quite distinct. 

When we got back again to the sacristy the proces- 
sion was forming — a number of gentlemen dressed in 
black, with gold chains and crosses around their necks, 
and a long procession of monks, priests, and choristers. 
Colonna himself at the head, carrying quite simply a 
rather large wooden cross ; all with tapers and all chant- 
ing. As soon as they had filed out of the sacristy we 
went upstairs again to a high balcony, from which w^e 
had a fine view of the church. It was packed with peo- 
ple, the crowd just opening enough to allow the proces- 
sion to pass, which looked like a line of fire winding in 
and out. There was a short, simple service, and then all 
turned toward the balcony from where the relics were 
shown, every one in the church kneeling, as far as I could 
see. We came away before the end, and had great diffi- 
culty in getting through the crowd to our carriages. 

This morning it was beautiful so we all started off 
early to the Wurts' Villa (old Sciarra Villa) on the Janic- 
ulum. Just as we crossed the bridge the bells rang 
out the Hallelujah (the first time they had rung since 



284 ITALIAN LETTERS [xVpril 

Wednesday). They sounded beautiful, so joyous, a real 
Easter peal. We had a delightful hour in the garden of 
the Villa. There were armies of workmen in every direc- 
tion, and the place will be a perfect Paradise. There are 
fine trees in the garden, masses of rhododendrons, every 
description of palm, and of course flowers everywhere. 
The views were divine to-day — the Sabine Mountains 
with a great deal of snow, Soracte blue and solitary ris- 
ing straight out of the Campagna, and the Abruzzi snow- 
topped in the distance. Mr. and Mrs. Wurts were there 
and showed us all the improvements they intend making. 
After breakfast I walked about in the Via Sistina look- 
ing for some photographs. I wanted to find some of old 
Rome (at least Rome of 24 years ago) but that seemed 
hopeless. My artist friend had promised to look in some 
of his father's old portfolios and see what he could find, 
but he was not in a business frame of mind this afternoon. 
He was eating his dinner at his counter, his slouched hat 
on his head, which he didn't remove while I was talking 
to him. A young woman with her face tied up in a red 
fichu was stretched out on the floor behind the counter, 
sound asleep, her head on a pile of books; another over 
at the other end of the shop, her chair tilted back, talking 
sometimes to him and sometimes to people in the street. 
I suppose my eyes wandered to the one who was asleep, 
for he instantly said, " She is ill, tired, don't disturb her." 
He said he hadn't found any old photographs, only one 
rather bad and half-effaced of Pio IX. I said I wanted 
one of Antonelli. " E morto lui." I said I knew that, 
but he had lived however once, and not so very long ago, 
and had been a person of some importance. He evi- 
dently didn't think it worth while to continue that con- 
versation, and had certainly no intention of looking for 
any photographs for me that day. It was " festa " — 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 285 

Easter Eve — and work was over for him until Monday 
morning, so I was really obliged to go, he wishing me 
" buon giorno " and " buona Pasqua " quite cheerfully, 
without getting up or taking off his hat. 

I came in to tea, as Mustel was to play. We had about 
40 people, and he was much pleased at the way in which 
every one listened, and appreciated his instrument. Of 
course he plays it divinely and brings out every sound. 
Josephine had asked the Marquise Villa Marina to come 
and hear him. He naturally wants very much to play 
for Queen Margherita (who is a very good musician and 
plays the organ herself), and if the Marquise makes a 
good report the Queen will perhaps send for him to play 
for her. 

Easter Sunday, April 3d. 

It has been a beautiful day. Bessie and I went to the 
English church, which was crowded. We could only 
find seats quite at the bottom of the church, and those 
were chairs which had been brought in at the last mo- 
ment. We went afterward to breakfast with the Wurts 
in their beautiful apartment. They had flowers every- 
where (from their villa) and the rooms looked like a gar- 
den. We were quite a party — 16 — and stayed there talk- 
ing and looking at everything until after three. Then 
we started for a drive. I wanted to go to the Protestant 
Cemetery and see the little mortuary chapel we built after 
father's death. Some one told me it was utterly un- 
cared for, going to ruin. The gates were open as we 
drove up, a good many carriages waiting, and plenty of 
people walking about inside. It is a lovely, peaceful spot, 
so green and still, many fine trees, quantities of camellias, 
and violets on almost every grave. The chapel stood 
just as I remembered it — in the middle of the cemetery. 
It is in perfectly good order, and had evidently been 



286 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

used quite lately as there were wooden trestles to support 
a coffin, and bits of wreaths and stalks of flowers lying 
about. The two inscriptions, Latin on one side and 
English on the other, are both quite well preserved and 
legible. I wanted very much to see a guardian or direc- 
tor of the cemetery, but there was only a woman at the 
gate, who knew nothing, hadn't been there very long, in 
fact she knew nothing about the chapel, and showed me 
a room opening into the old cemetery (where Keats is 
buried) wliich looked more like a lumber room than any- 
thing else. There are some interesting monuments, one 
to Mrs. Story, quite simple and beautiful, an angel kneel- 
ing with folded wings. It was done by her husband, 
the last thing he did, his son told me. The old cemetery 
looks quite deserted, close under the great pyramid of 
Caius Cestius, the few graves quite uncared for, a general 
air of neglect, a fitting resting-place for the poor young 
poet whose profound discouragement will go down to 
posterity. Every one goes to the grave and reads the 
melancholy inscription, " Here lies one whose name was 
writ in water." 

It was such a lovely afternoon that we drove on to Tre 
Fontane. There, too, there were people. The churches 
were open, but there was no service going on ; however 
the place has always a great charm. The tops of the 
eucalyptus trees were swaying in a little breeze, and the 
smell was stronger and more aromatic than when we 
were there the other day. 

We have had a quiet evening, all of us, children and 
grown-ups, Protestants and Catholics, singing the Eng- 
lish Easter Hymns. Josephine, who is a very strict 
Catholic, loves the English hymns, and certainly we can 
all sing " Christ the Lord is Risen To-day," for Easter 
is a fete for all the world. I am sorry I didn't go to St. 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 287 

Peter's this morning. I don't know that there was any 
special ceremony, but for the sake of old times I should 
have liked to have had my Easter and Hallelujah there. 
I am writing rather under difficulties as the telephone 
is ringing furiously (it goes all day, as every one in the 
house uses it for everything). At the present moment 
Josephine seems conversing with " all manner of men " 
— the Marquise Villa IMarina from the Queen's Palace, 
the padrone of the hotel where Mustel is staying, and 
one or two others. It seems Queen Margherita would 
like to have Mustel and his organ to-morrow night at the 
Palace ; and has asked us three, Bessie, Josephine and me, 
to come. I am very glad for Mustel who wants so much 
to be heard by the Queen. He hopes to sell some of his 
organs here. They are not expensive, but so few peo- 
ple care about an organ of their own. 

Wednesday, April 6th, 
We had an interesting evening at the palace on Mon- 
day. I couldn't get there for the beginning, as I had a 
big dinner, and a very pleasant one, at the Iddings'. 
When I arrived I heard the music going on, but the Mar- 
quise de Villa Marina came to meet me in the corridor, 
and we walked up and down talking until the piece was 
over. I found a small party — the Queen, her mother, the 
Duchess of Genoa, and about fifteen or twenty people. 
The Queen was in black, with beautiful pearl necklace. 
She received me charmingly and was most kind and 
gracious to Mustel, saying she was so pleased to see a 
French artist, and taking great interest in his instrument. 
He played several times : Handel's grand aria, Bach, and 
the Marche des Pelerins from " Tannhauser," which 
sounded magnificent — quite an effect of orchestra. 

About 1 1.30 there was a pause. The Duchess of Genoa 



288 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

came over and talked to me a little, saying she had known 
my husband and followed his career with great interest, 
his English origin and education making him quite differ- 
ent from the usual run of French statesmen. She also 
spoke of my sister-in-law, Madame de Bunsen, whom she 
had known formerly in Florence. She exchanged a few 
words with the other ladies, and then withdrew, the Queen 
and her ladies accompanying her to her apartments. 
We remained talking with the other guests until Queen 
Margherita came back. She asked Mustel to play once 
more — and then we had orangeade, ices, and cakes. 
There was a small buffet at one end of the drawing-room. 
It was quite half-past twelve when the Queen dismissed 
us. We had a real musical evening, pleasant and easy. 

It was beautiful this morning, so I went for a turn in 
the Villa Borghese, which is a paradise these lovely spring 
days; only the getting to it is disagreeable. It is a hot, 
glaring walk up the Via Veneto, not an atom of shade 
anywhere until one gets well inside the grounds. I was 
walking about on the grass quite leisurely, and very 
distraite, not noticing any one, when I heard my name. 
I turned and saw two ladies making signs to me from 
the other side of the road, so I squeezed through a very 
narrow opening in the fence, and found myself with the 
grand duchess and her lady-in-waiting, who were taking 
their morning walk. We strolled on together. She 
asked me if I always came to the villa in the morning. 
I said " No," I often went shopping in the morning, and 
told her about my photographer of the Via Sistina and the 
difficulty of getting a photograph of Antonelli. She in- 
stantly said : " Oh, but I can help you there, if you really 
would like a photograph of Antonelli. I have a fine por- 
trait of him that was painted for my beau-pere. It is in 
the palace at Weimar, and I will give orders at once for 




(.'ardinal Antonelli. 

From a picture painted for tlie Grand Duke of Saxc-Weiinar. 

From a photograph given to Madame Waddington by the Hereditary r.rand Duchess of 

Saxe-Weiinar at Rome. 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 289 

tlie court photographer to go and copy it." I was much 
pleased, as I do want the photograph and was rather in 
despair at not having found one. It seemed incredible 
to me, until I had asked a little, that there should be 
nothing of Antonelli. After all, it isn't very long since 
he played a great part here, so it was a most fortunate 
rencontre for me this morning. We parted at the gate — 
I walked home and she got into her carriage. 

Friday, April 7th. 

We made a pleasant excursion yesterday to San Gre- 
gorio, the Brancaccios' fine place beyond Tivoli. The day 
unluckily was grey, looked as if it would pour every min- 
ute, we had none of the lovely lights and shades that 
make the Campagna and the hills so beautiful. We went 
out in Camillo Ruspoli's automobile, a Fiat, Italian make, 
strong and fast. The road is not particularly interesting 
until one begins the steep ascent to Tivoli ; then looking 
back the view of course was beautiful. We didn't have 
much time to admire it, for the auto galloped up the steep 
hill as if it were nothing. After Tivoli the road goes 
straight up into the Sabine hills, winding and narrow, 
with very sharp corners, which we swung round quite 
easily certainly, as Ruspoli managed his carriage per- 
fectly — but still the road zvas narrow and steep — hills 
rolling away on one side, a precipice and deep valley on 
the other, no wall nor parapet of any description, and it 
was absolutely lonely. If anything had broken, or an 
animal crossed our road suddenly, and made us swerve, I 
don't think anything could have saved us. 

The castle looked very imposing as we came up to it, 
an enormous mass, the village built into the castle walls, 
standing high on the top of a hill. The flag was flying, 
all the population, wildly excited (another automobile had 



290 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

arrived before us), were massed at the gates, the draw- 
bridge down, and Bessie and her husband waiting for 
us, also the Bishops who had come in their auto. We 
took off some of our coats, but not all, as the rooms are 
so enormous that it was cold, notwithstanding a great 
fire in the big hall. We had an hour before breakfast, so 
they showed us the house which is magnificent, with the 
most divine views on all sides from all the balconies, 
corner windows, etc. It is beautifully furnished, perfect- 
ly comfortable. I couldn't begin to describe it — one 
couldn't take it all in in a flying visit. There are several 
complete apartments with dressing-rooms, bath-rooms, 
etc., so curious to see so much modern comfort and lux- 
ury inside this grim old castle on the top of a rock far 
back in the Sabine hills. 

It was very cold — I kept on my thick coat. There are 
balconies and little bridges connecting towers, high ter- 
races, staircases in every direction — quite bewildering. 
We breakfasted in the large dining hall, and it was pleas- 
ant to see the enormous logs, and to hear the crackling and 
spluttering of a big fire. There are some fine Brancaccio 
portraits, in the curious old-world court dress of the 
Neapolitan ladies of the last century. They gave us an 
excellent breakfast, with a turkey bred and fattened at 
the olive farm (it seems these olive- fed turkeys are their 
specialty). We did some more sight-seeing after break- 
fast, bachelor apartments principally, such curious old 
niches and steep, narrow little staircases (we could only 
pass single file) cut in the thick walls, and then started 
ofif to drive and walk in the park. They had two nice 
little two-wheeled carts, with stout ponies, just the thing 
for rough wood driving. The park is charming — long 
green alleys with beautiful views — the country all around 
rather stony and barren, no shade as there are few trees. 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 291 

We hadn't time to go to the oHve farm, which I was sorry 
for, as the people were all working there picking the 
olives. I should have liked to see the women with their 
bright skirts and corsets making a warm bit of colour in 
the midst of the grey-green olive groves. 

We started home rather sooner than we had intended, 
as the sky was getting blacker, and a few drops already 
falling. We were in an open automobile, and should 
have been half drowned going home if it had begun to 
rain hard. We went back at a frightful pace. If I 
found the coming up terrifying you can imagine what 
the descent was, flying around the corners, and seeing 
the steep road zigzagging far down below us. I heard 
smothered exclamations (" Oh, mon petit Camillo, pas si 
vite'') occasionally from Bessie, and I think Josephine 
was saying her prayers — however we did get home with- 
out any accident or " panne " of any kind, and Ruspoli 
assured us he had crazvlcd out of consideration for us. 

This morning Josephine and I have been out to the 
new Benedictine Monastery of St. Anselmo, which stands 
high on a hill overlooking the Tiber. She had busi- 
ness with the Director, so I went into the chapel which 
is fine (quite modern with splendid marbles) and 
walked about a little in the garden (they wouldn't let 
me go far). We went afterward into the Villa Malta. 
There is an extraordinary view through the key-hole of 
the door — one looks straight down a long, narrow avenue 
with high trees on each side, to St. Peter's — a great blue 
dome at the end. We couldn't make out at first what 
the old woman meant who opened the door for us, she 
wouldn't let us come in, but pointed to the key-hole, 
mumbling something we couldn't understand. At last we 
heard " veduta " (view), and divined what she wanted us 
to do. It was most curious. The gardens are lovely still. 



292 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

green, cool. We went over the house, but there is noth- 
ing particularly interesting — portraits of all the " Grands 
Maitres de I'Ordre de Malte." It was so lovely that we 
didn't want to come home, so we drove out as far at St. 
Paul's Fuori le Mura, and walked around the church to 
the front where they are making a splendid portico — 
all marble and mosaic. I should have liked it better 
without the mosaic — merely the fine granite and marble 
columns. 

Tuesday, April 12th. 
Yesterday we had a splendid ceremony at St. Peter's, 
the 13th anniversary of Pope Gregorio Magno. We 
started early, Josephine and I leaving the house together 
at 8, dressed in the regulation black dress and veil. I had 
on a short cloth skirt, which I regretted afterward, but as 
we had asked for no particular places, and were going to 
take our chance in the church with all the ordinary sight- 
seers, I hadn't made a very elegante toilette. We got 
along pretty well, though there were streams of carriages 
and people all going in the same direction, until we got 
near the St. Angelo bridge — there we took the file, hardly 
advanced at all, and met quantities of empty carriages 
coming back. I fancy most people started much earlier 
than we did. The piazza was fairly crowded (but not 
the compact mass we used to see in the old days when 
the Pope gave the Easter blessing from the balcony), all 
the Colonnade guarded by Italian troops, cajrabinieri and 
bersaglieri. We went round to the Sagrestia, and found 
our way easily into the church, and into our Tribune A, 
but we might just as well have remained at home, if we 
had wanted to see anything. We were far back, low, and 
could have just seen perhaps the top of the Pope's tiara 
when he was carried in his high chair in procession — how- 
ever it was our own fault, as we had asked too late for our 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 293 

tickets. I was interested all the same seeing the differ- 
ent people come in (the church was very full). We sat 
there some little time, rather disgusted au fond at having 
such bad places, particularly when we saw some people 
we knew being escorted with much pomp past our ob- 
scure little tribune, toward the centre of the church. 
Finally one of the camerieri segreti in his uniform — 
black velvet, ruff and chain — recognised Josephine, and 
insisted that she should come with him and he would give 
her a proper place. She rather demurred at leaving me, 
but I urged her going, as I was sure she w^ould find a 
seat for me somewhere. In a few minutes the gentleman 
returned, and put me first in the same tribune with her, 
a little farther back, but eventually conducted me to the 
Diplomatic Tribune, d'Antas, the Doyen, Portuguese Am- 
bassador to the Quirinal, and an old colleague of ours in 
London, having said he would gladly give a place in their 
box to an ancienne collegue. That was the moment in 
which I regretted my short skirt. I had to cross the 
red carpet between rows of gardes-nobles and gala uni- 
forms of all kinds and colours, and I was quite conscious 
that my dress was not up to the mark, a sentiment which 
gathered strength as I got to the Diplomatic Tribune, and 
saw all the ladies beautifully dressed, with long lace and 
satin dresses, pearl necklaces, and their veils fastened 
with diamond stars. However, it was a momentary 
ennui, and I could only hope nobody looked at me. 
Wasn't it silly of me to wear a plain little skirt — I can't 
think why I did it. Almost all the bishops and som- 
mites of the clerical world were already assembled and 
walking about in the great space at the back of the 
altar. Just opposite us was the Tribune of the patriciat 
Romain. All the tribunes and columns were covered with 
red and gold draperies. A detachment of gardes-nobles, 



294 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

splendid in their red coats, white culottes and white 
plumes, surrounded the altar. There were two silver 
thrones for the Pope, one at one side of the church where 
he sat first, directly opposite to us, another quite at the end 
of the long nave behind the high altar. The entrance 
of the cardinals was very effective. They all wore white 
cloaks trimmed with silver, and silver mitres, each one 
accompanied by an attendant priest, who helped them 
take of¥ and put on their mitres, which they did several 
times during the ceremony. The costumes were splen- 
did, some high prelates, I suppose, in red skirts with 
splendid old lace; some in white and gold brocaded 
cloaks, also grey fur cloaks ; and an Eastern bishop with 
a long beard, in purple flowered robes, a pink sash worn 
like a grand cordon over his shoulder, and purple mitre. 
It was a gorgeous effect of colour, showing all the more 
between the rows of tribunes where every one was in 
black. 

We divined (as we were too far back to see) when the 
Pope's cortege entered the church. There was no sound 
— a curious silence — except the trumpets which preceded 
the cortege (they played a " Marcia pontificale," they 
told me). At last we saw the " sedia gestatoria " with 
the peacock fans appearing, and the Pope himself held 
high over the heads of the crowd (it seems he hates the 
sedia and hoped until the last moment not to be obliged 
to use it, but it is the tradition of St. Peter's, and really 
the only way for the people to see him). We saw him 
quite distinctly. He looked pale certainly, and a little 
tired, even before the ceremony began, but that may have 
been the effect of the swaying motion of the chair. There 
was the same silence when he was taken out of his chair 
and walked to the throne, not even the subdued hum of 
a great crowd. There was a little group of officiating 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 295 

priests and cardinals on the dais surrounding the throne. 
The Pope wore a long soutane of fine white cloth, white 
shoes, a splendid mantle of white and gold brocade, and 
a gold mitre with precious stones, principally pearls. He 
began his mass at once, a bishop holding the big book 
open before him. a priest on each side with a lighted 
taper. His voice sounded strong and clear, but I don't 
think it would carry very far. I was disappointed in the 
Gregorian chants. There were 1,500 voices, but they 
sounded meagre in that enormous space. The ceremony 
was very long. I couldn't follow it all, and at intervals 
couldn't see anything, as the priests stood often directly 
in front of the Pope. It was interesting to make out 
the various cardinals — Cardinal Vincenzo Vannutelli sat 
almost directly opposite to us, his tall figure standing out 
well. His brother Cardinal Serafino was always close to 
the Pope. I asked d'Antas to show me Cardinal Ram- 
polla, who has a fine head and dignified carriage, rather a 
sad face. It was very impressive when the Pope left his 
throne by the altar and walked across the great space 
to the other one at the end of the nave. Every one 
knelt as he passed, the cardinals, bishops, gardes-nobles, 
everybody in the tribunes (at least everybody in the front 
row, I won't answer for the young ones behind, but they 
stood if they didn't kneel). There again the ceremonies 
were very long. When the Pope had taken his seat, 
many of the cardinals sat too on the steps of the dais. 
It was very picturesque, and the Eastern prelate stood 
out well from the group of white-robed Cardinals in his 
bright flowered garments. The Evangile was read in 
Latin and in Greek — a great many things and people were 
blessed, every one kneeling at the foot of the dais, and 
again when they got close up to the Pope ; some quite pros- 
trated themselves and kissed his slipper (a very nice white 



296 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

one) which they say he hates. Prince Orsini, premier 
assistant of the Saint Siege, officiated, and looked his 
part to perfection. He is tall, with a long white beard, 
and his short black velvet cloak, with a long white and 
silver mantle over it, was most effective. I don't know 
exactly what he did, but he appeared various times at the 
foot of the dais, knelt, and sometimes presented something 
on a platter. He was always accompanied (as were all 
who took any prominent part in the ceremony) by two 
priests, one on each side of him ; sort of masters of cere- 
mony who told him when to kneel, when to stand, etc. 
On the whole all the music disappointed me. The Gre- 
gorian chants were too thin ; the Sistine choir didn't seem 
as full and fine as it used to be, and the silver trumpets 
absolutely trivial. 

It was most impressive at the moment of the elevation, 
almost the whole assembly in that enormous church 
kneeling, and not a sound except the silver trumpets, 
which had seemed so divinely inspired to me in the old 
days. I remember quite well seeing Gounod on his knees, 
with tears streaming down his face, and we were quite 
enchanted, lifted out of ourselves and our every-day sur- 
roundings. This time I was perfectly conscious of a 
great spectacle of the Catholic Church with its magnifi- 
cent " mise-en-scene," but nothing devotional or appeal- 
ing to one's religious feelings. 

I should have liked to hear a great solemn choral of 
Bach, not an ordinary melodious little tune; and yet for 
years after those first days in Rome I never could play or 
hear the music of the silver trumpets without being 
strangely moved. 

I thought the Pope looked very pale and tired as he 
passed down the long nave the last time and was finally 
carried of¥ in his chair with his peacock fans waving, 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 297 

and a stately procession of cardinals and prelates follow- 
ing. I think he regrets Venice and the simple life there 
as pastor of his people. 

We saw plenty of people we knew as we were making 
our way through the crowd to the carriage. Some of 
the ladies told us they had left their hotel at 5.30 in the 
morning, they were so anxious to get a good place. I 
told d'Antas I was very grateful to him, for I saw every- 
thing of course perfectly, and took in many little details 
which I never could have seen if we hadn't been so near. 
I also apologized to Madame d'Antas for my modest, not 
to say mesquin attire; but she said as long as I was all 
black, and had the black veil, it was of no consequence. 
There were two or three ladies in the Royal Tribune — 
Grand Duchess of Saxe- Weimar and Duchess Paul of 
Mecklenburg. We were a long time getting home, but it 
was an interesting progress ; all Rome out, a good many 
handsome carriages, and I should think people from every 
part of the world, Rome is so full of strangers. 

Thursday, April 14th. 
I never had a moment yesterday as it was the children's 
ball, and we were all taken up with the preparations. It 
went off very well, and was one of the prettiest sights I 
ever saw. The children danced extremely well, though 
even at the last repetition things didn't go perfectly; but 
evidently at all ages there is a sort of amour propre 
that carries one through, when there is a gallery. The 
dresses were Louis XVI., paniers and powder for the 
girls (and sweet they looked — Victoria quite a picture 
with her large dark eyes and bright colour), embroidered 
coats, long gilets, tricorne hats and swords for the boys. 
There were eight couples, and very good music — 4 
violins playing Bodcherini's minuet. Bessie had ar- 



298 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

ranged a very pretty " rampe " with white azaleas and 
pink and yellow ribbons, separating the upper part of the 
ball-room, and the space for the dancers was kept by 4 
tall footmen in yellow gala liveries and powder, who stood 
at each corner of the square, in their hands tall gilt canes 
held together by bands of pink ribbon. It made a charm- 
ing " cadre " — you can't imagine how pretty the little 
procession looked as they all filed in, the small ones first. 
I think perhaps the quite small ones were the best ; they 
were so important, took much trouble and weren't as dis- 
tracted by the spectators as the bigger ones. They were 
much applauded, and were obliged to repeat the menuet 
after a little rest. In an incredibly short time all the 
seats and various accessories were taken away, and 
the ball began, ending with a very spirited cotillon led by 
the son of the house, Don Camillo Ruspoli, and one of his 
friends, the Marquis Guglielmi. They kept it up until 
dinner time, when the various mammas, quite exhausted 
with the heat and the emotion of seeing their children 
perform in public, carried them off; but the children 
(ours certainly) were not at all tired. 

Saturday, April i6th. 
It is real summer weather — too hot to walk in the 
morning, particularly from here, where we have to cross 
the open piazza before we can get anywhere. Thursday 
we went to the races with the Brancaccios, on their coach. 
It was most amusing, the road very animated all the way 
out from Porta San Giovanni to Campanelle; every one 
making way for the coach as they do in England. There 
was every description of vehicle, and quantities of police 
and soldiers — the road very strictly guarded, as the King 
and Queen were coming. It looked very pretty to see 
a patrol of cuirassiers suddenly appearing from under 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 299 

an old archway, or behind a bit of ruined wall, or from 
time to time one solitary soldier standing on the top of a 
high mound. It was very hot, the sun too strong on our 
heads, but we didn't go very fast; couldn't, in such a 
crowd, so we were able to hold our parasols. 

The course and all the tribunes were crowded ; the 
women almost all in white or light dresses. The King 
and Queen came in an open carriage with four horses — 
no escort. We had a pleasant day, meeting quantities of 
people we knew. We had rather a struggle for tea ; there 
were not nearly enough tables and chairs for so many 
people ; but we finally got some under difficulties, two of 
us sitting on the same chair and thankful to get it. 

The drive home was lovely, cool, and very little dust. 
Rome looked soft and warm in the sunset light as we got 
near, and the statues on San Giovanni Laterano almost 
golden as the light struck them. It was interminable 
when we got into the file, and Brancaccio had some diffi- 
culty in turning into his court-yard. 

Monday, April i8th. 
It is enchanting summer weather, but too hot for walk- 
ing. I have had two charming auto expeditions with 
Mr. and Mrs. Bishop. Saturday we started after break- 
fast to Civita Vecchia. The country is not very interest- 
ing near Rome, but it was delightful running along by 
the sea — the road low and so close to the water that the 
little waves came nearly up to the wheels. Civita Vec- 
chia looked quite picturesque, rising up out of the sea. 
We didn't stop there, merely drove through the town, 
and came home another way inland, through the hills, 
quite beautiful, but such sharp turns and steep bits. We 
climbed straight up a high hill (2.000 feet) soon after 
leaving Civita Vecchia, and had for some tinfe a divine 



300 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

view of sea and coast ; then plunged at once into the 
mountains, great barren, stony peaks with httle old grey 
villages on top; hills rolling away on each side, a wild, 
desolate country. The road was very lonely, we met only 
a few carts; the peasants frantic with terror as the big 
auto dashed by. 

We passed Bracciano, the great feudal castle of the 
Odescalchi, with the beautiful little blue lake at the bot- 
tom of the hill. It is a fine old pile, square and grey, 
with battlements running all around it — more imposing 
than attractive. After leaving Bracciano we flew — the 
road was straight and level — and got back to Rome by 
Ponte Molle and Porta del Popolo. 

Sunday we made a longer expedition to the Falls of 
Terni. There were three autos — quite a party. The 
road was very different, but quite beautiful, green fields 
and olive woods, and lovely effects of light and shade on 
the Campagna. The day was grey, the sun appearing 
every now and then from behind a cloud, at first; later, 
when we stopped on the high road, with not a vestige of 
tree or bit of wall to give us shade, we longed for the 
clouds. 

We soon began to climb, then down a long, winding 
hill to Civita Castellana, an old fortified town, walls all 
around. We drove in through the gate, and along a 
narrow steep street filled with people, as it was Sunday, 
and asked if they had seen another auto. They told us 
yes, in the piazza, so we went on, making our way with 
difficulty through the crowded streets ; every one taking a 
lively interest in the auto. The square, too, was crowded, 
all the women in bright skirts and fichus, and a fair 
sprinkling of uniforms; little carts with fruit and vegeta- 
bles, and two or three men with mandolins or violins (a 
mild little music) but no signs of an auto. A splendid 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 301 

gentleman in uniform with waving plumes and a sword 
(mayor, I suppose) came up and interviewed us, and told 
us an auto had been there, coming from Rome, but had 
left about ten minutes before ; so we started off again, and 
had a beautiful drive to Terni. We passed Narni, which 
stands very well on the top of a rock, high above the little 
river which runs there through a narrow gorge to the 
Tiber. We crossed a fine large bridge, then down a hill 
to Terni, where we breakfasted. After breakfast we 
started for the Falls, about four miles further on, and 
quite beautiful they are, a great rush of sparkling water 
falling from a height and breaking into countless little 
falls over the green moss-covered rocks below. It was 
delicious to hear the sound of running water, and to feel 
the spray on our faces after our hot ride. 

We didn't get out. We shouldn't have seen the Falls 
any better, and would have had to scramble over wet, slip- 
pery stones. There was the usual collection of guides, 
beggars, etc., offering us pieces of petrified stone, and of 
course post-cards of the Falls. Just around Terni the 
hills are very green, the slopes covered with olive trees, 
and quantities of white villas scattered about on the 
hillside, little groups of people loitering about, women 
and girls making pretty bits of colour as they strolled 
along. They love bright colours, and generally have on 
two or three, red or blue skirts, yellow fichus on their 
heads, or over their shoulders, coloured beads or gold 
pins. Some of them carried such heavy loads on their 
heads or backs, great bundles of fagots, or sacks of 
olives, old women generally. They are given that work 
as a rest when they are too old to do anything in the fields. 

We came home by another road, always the same wild 
mountain scenery, always also the same sharp curves and 
steep descents. It is certainly lovely country, green hills 



302 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

breaking away in every direction. As we got higher, 
great stony, barren peaks, torrents rushing along at our 
feet, and always on the top of a rock, rising straight up 
out of the hills, a little old grey village (with usually a 
steeple and sometimes an old square castle). Some of 
the villages were stretched along the mountainside about 
half-way up. They all looked perfectly lonely and inac- 
cessible, but I suppose life goes on there with just as much 
interest to them, as in ours in the busy world beneath. 

We raced up and down the hills, through beautiful 
country, scarcely slackening when we passed through 
some little walled towns (hardly more than one long 
crooked street), in at one gate and out at the other, people 
all crowding into the piazza, smiling and taking off their 
hats. Once or twice one heard them say " la Regina " 
evidently thinking it was Queen Margherita, who loves 
her auto, and makes long country excursions in it. It was 
a curious, fantastic progress, but enchanting. 

The other autos had started some time ahead of us. 
We saw an object (stationary) as we were speeding down 
a steep hill, which proved, as we got near, to be one of 
them, stuck in a little stream, quite firmly embedded in 
the sand, and looking as if nothing would ever get it 
out. About 15 or 20 men were pulling and hauling, but 
it seemed quite hopeless. It wasn't a very pleasant pros- 
pect for us either, as our auto, too, was big and heavy, 
and we had to get across. It would have been too far to 
go back all the way round. However, Mr. Bishop's chauf- 
feur was not in the least concerned, said he would cer- 
tainly take his carriage over, and he did, Mrs. Bishop and 
me in it. We waited to see the other one emerge from 
its bed of sand. The men pulled well, and talked as hard 
as they pulled, and finally the great heavy machine was 
landed on the other side. 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 303 

We had a long level stretch, about 20 kilometres, before 
we got into Rome, and we raced the train, all the passen- 
gers wildly excited. It is curious to see how one gets 
accustomed to the speed when the carriage rolls smoothly. 
It seemed quite natural to me to fly past everything, and 
yet when Strutz has occasionally whirled us in to La 
Ferte to catch the express I haven't been comfortable 
at all. 

April 22, 1904. 

Yesterday afternoon Bessie and I went to the recep- 
tion at the Villa Medicis, which w^as pleasant. We liked 
the music of the i^"" Prix de Rome, and it w^as interest- 
ing to see the pictures and sculpture. I think the faces 
of the young men interested me, perhaps, more than their 
work — they looked so young and intelligent and hope- 
ful, so eager for the battle of life; and yet so many find 
it such a struggle. There is so much concurrence in 
everything, and an artist's life is precarious. The very 
qualities which make their genius unfit them so for all 
the cares and worries of a career which must always 
have ups and downs. 

We went late for a drive in the 'Corso and Via Nazio- 
nale to see all the preparations for Loubet's arrival. They 
are certainly taking no end of trouble — flags, draperies, 
and festoons of flowers, in all the principal streets. The 
garden they are making in Piazza Colonna is quite won- 
derful — quite tall trees, little green lawns, and the statue 
of a Roman emperor. Quantities of people looking on 
at the workmen and walking about in the piazza. The 
Via Nazionale, too, is gorgeous with draperies, shields, 
and large medallions with French and Italian colours 
entwined. 

This afternoon I went off alone and did some sight- 



304 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

seeing. We shall go in a few days, and I haven't seen 
half I wanted to. I went straight over to the Trastevere; 
first to Santa Maria, with its queer old mosaic faqade, 
looking more Byzantine than Italian; then on to Santa 
Cecilia, where a nice old sacristan took me all over 
showed me the chapel supposed to be directly over Santa 
Cecilia's bath-room (the church is said to be built on the 
very spot where her house stood), and of course the tomb 
of the saint. Then, as I had nothing particular to do, 
I drove out toward Monte Mario, which is a lovely drive 
in the afternoon, the view of Rome looking back is so 
beautiful. It is a long steep hill, with many turns, so 
one gets the view on all sides. The Cork Valley was 
green and lovely, and the road was unusually quiet. I 
think everybody is on the Corso looking at the festal 
preparations. I went back to the house to get Bessie, 
and we went to tea with the Waldo Storys, in his studio. 
He has some beautiful things — two fountains in par- 
ticular are quite charming. 

We all dined out, Bessie and Josephine with Cardinal 
Mathieu, I at the American Embassy with the Meyers. 
We had a pleasant dinner — four or five small tables. 
They have Mrs. Field's apartment in the Brancaccio Pal- 
ace — entertain a great deal, and are much liked in Rome. 

We came home early, and I am finishing this letter to- 
night. It is very warm, the windows open, and the street 
sounds very gay. To say that we have heard the Mar- 
seillaise these last days but faintly expresses how we have 
been pursued by the well-known air. Everybody sings 
or whistles it, all the street musicians, hand-organs, gui- 
tars, accordions, and brass bands play it all day and all 
night ; and we hear the music of a neighbouring barrack 
working at it every morning. At this present moment 
a band of youths are howling it under the window. I 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 305 

think they are getting ready to amuse themselves when 
the President arrives. 

It was most amusing in the streets this morning, flags 
flying, draperies being put up everywhere, troops march- 
ing across the Piazza di Spagna, musique en tete, to ex- 
ercise a httle on the review ground before the great day 
— quantities of people everywhere. They say all the 
hotels will be crowded to-morrow, and with French peo- 
ple, which rather surprises me, but they tell me there are 
deputations from Avignon, Marseilles, and various other 
southern towns. They are beginning to arrange the 
Spanish Steps quite charmingly — a perfect carpet of 
flowers (if only it doesn't rain). 

Saturday, April 23d. 

It poured this morning, and all night I heard the rain 
beating against the window every time I woke. The 
clouds are breaking a little now, at three o'clock, so per- 
haps it has rained itself out, and the President may have 
the " Queen's weather " to-morrow. Our Loubet in- 
vitations are beginning to come — a soiree at the Capitol ; 
great ricevimento, all the statues illuminated with pink 
lights ; a gala at the opera ; another great reception at the 
French Embassy (Quirinal) ; and the review. 

Josephine and I have been dining with the grand 
duchess at her hotel. We were a small party, and it was 
pleasant enough. She talks easily about everything, and 
loves Rome. The evening was not long. We all sat in 
a semicircle around her sofa after dinner. Every one 
smoked (but me), and she retired about ten. 

We have been talking over plans since we got back. 
Bessie will start to-morrow night. She is not keen 
naturally about the Loubet fetes, and Palma * wants her 

* Princesse di Poggio Suasa, nee Talleyrand-P^rigord. 



3o6 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

to stay over two or three days with her in the country 
somewhere near Ancona. She w'ill meet me in Turin, 
and we will come on together from there. It is still 
raining — I hope it will stop. 

Tuesday, April 26th. 

I had no time to write Sunday, as we were going all 
day. Bessie and I went to church in the morning, and 
then I left some P. P. C. cards on Cardinals Vannutelli, 
Mathieu, etc., also a note to the grand duchess to thank 
her for the photographs of Antonelli which she sent me 
last night — two very good ones, with a nice little note, 
saying she thought I would perhaps keep the big one for 
myself " as a souvenir of old times and new friends." 

The Corso looked quite brilliant as we drove through — 
the bright sun seemed to have completely dried the flags 
and festoons and the streets were full of people, all gap- 
ing and smiling, and in high good-humour. The Spanish 
Steps were charming, the great middle flight entirely 
covered with flowers, looking like an enormous bright 
carpet. 

We had some visits after breakfast, and started about 
three to the Countess Bruschi's, w4io has an apartment 
with windows looking directly over to the " Esedra di 
Termine," where the syndic. Prince Prosper Colonna, was 
to receive the President. There was such a crowd, and 
there were so many people going to the same place, that 
we thought that would be hopeless, so we returned and 
made our way with difficulty, as the streets were crowded, 
to the Via Nazionale, where a friend of Josephine's had 
asked us to come. She established us on a balcony, and 
there w^e saw splendidly. The street is rather narrow, 
and the balcony not high. The crowd was most amusing, 
perfectly good-natured, even at times when a band of 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 307 

roughs would try to break the Hues, pushing through the 
rows of screaming, strugghng women and children, and 
apparently coming to a hand-to-hand light with the 
policemen ; but as soon as the soldiers charged into them 
— which they did repeatedly during the afternoon — they 
dispersed; nobody was hurt (I never can imagine why 
not, when the horses all backed down on them), nobody 
protested violently, and the crowd cheered impartially 
both sides. These little skirmishes went on the whole 
afternoon until we heard the Marcia Reale, and saw the 
escort appearing. A troop of cuirassiers opened the 
march. The royal carriages with the red Savoie liveries 
were very handsome — all the uniforms making a great 
effect — the King and President together, both looking 
very happy, the King in uniform, the President in plain 
black with a high hat, returning all the salutations most 
smilingly. He was enthusiastically received, certainly — 
there were roars of applause, which became frantic when 
some of the military bands played the Marseillaise. As 
soon as the cortege had passed the crowd broke up, quan- 
tities of people following the carriage to the Quirinal, 
where the great square was crowded. There, too, they 
were so enthusiastic that the President had to appear on 
the balcony between the King and Queen. 

We started out again after dinner, and wanted to see 
the torchlight procession, but didn't, as our movements 
were a little complicated. We took Bessie to the station, 
and waited to see her start. When we came out the pro- 
cession had passed, but the streets were still brilliantly 
lighted and very gay, quantities of people about. 

Yesterday we had a delightful expedition to Porta 
d'Anzio and Nettuno — two autos — and some of the party 
by train. We were really glad to get out of the streets 
and the crowd of sightseers. Quantities of people have 



3o8 ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

come from all parts of Italy to see the show, and are 
standing about all day in compact little groups, gaping 
at the festoons and decorations. It is frightful to think 
of the microbes that are flying about. 

We started early, at 9.30, went straight out toward 
Albano, to the foot of the hill, then turned off sharp to 
the right, taking a most lovely road, chestnut trees on 
each side, and hedges white and fragrant with hawthorn. 
As we got near Porta d'Anzio we had a beautiful view 
of a bright blue summer sea. The first arrivals had or- 
dered breakfast in quite a clean hotel, evidently other 
people had thought too that it would be pleasant to get 
out of Rome to-day, as there were several parties in the 
dining-room, which was large and bright, but no view 
of the sea. 

After breakfast we all wandered out to the shore, and 
walked about a little, but the sun was hot and the glare 
very trying — the sea like a painted ocean, all the sails of 
the little pleasure boats, and even fishing boats further 
out, hanging in folds, the boats just drifting with the 
tide. The place is enchanting, and the little point of 
Nettuno quite white in the sun, stretching out into the 
blue sea, was fairy-like — the colours almost too vivid. 
The various boatmen lounging about in bright coloured 
shirts and sashes were very anxious we should sail or 
row to Nettuno, but the sea, though beautiful, looked 
hot, and we were rather sceptical about the breeze which 
they assured us always got up after 12. 

We went off in the auto to the Villa Borghese, about 
half-way between Porta d'Anzio and Nettuno, which is 
a Paradise. It stands high, in a lovely green park and 
looks straight out to sea. The drive through the park 
by the galleria, trees meeting over our heads, and the 
road winding up and down through the little wood was 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 309 

delightful, so shady and resting to the eyes after the glare 
and sun of the beach. All the way to Nettuno there are 
quantities of villas, fronting the sea, some very high with 
terraces sloping down to the water, all with gardens. 
Nettuno itself is an interesting little place with a fine old 
feudal castle. Some of the party had chosen to sail from 
Porta d'Anzio to Nettuno, and we saw their boat, full of 
children, just moving along close to the shore. 

We had tea on the shore, made in Countess Frank- 
enstein's tea-basket, and it was delicious sitting there, 
seeing the little blue waves break at our feet, and the 
beautiful clear atmosphere making everything look so 
soft and near. 

The coming home was enchanting, very few people on 
the road, so we could come quickly, and the flying through 
the air was delightful after the heat and fatigue of the 
day. The Campagna is beautiful at the end of the day; 
so quiet, long stretches of green just broken here and 
there by the shepherds' huts, and the long lines of aque- 
ducts, curiously lonely so close to a great city. 

We had just time to dress and dine, and start for the 
gala at the opera. The theatre (Argentina) is small, 
and stands in a narrow street. There was a long file of 
carriages, and so little space in front, that there could be 
no display of troops, music, etc., as one has always 
in Paris for a gala night at the Opera. Inside, too, all 
is small, the entrance, corridor, staircase, etc. Once 
we had got to our box the coup d'ceil was charming. 
The whole house is boxes, tier upon tier, all dark red 
inside, which threw out the womens' dresses and jewels 
splendidly. They were almost all in white with hand- 
some tiaras, the men in uniform, at least the diploma- 
tists and ofiicers. The peuple souverain, senators, depu- 
ties, etc., in the parterre were in black. The heat was 



3IO ITALIAN LETTERS [April 

something awful. The Court came very punctually — 
the Queen looked handsome with her beautiful tiara, the 
King of course in uniform, the President between them in 
black with no decoration. The house went mad (every 
one standing of course) when they played the Marseillaise, 
all the parterre cheering and waving hats and handker- 
chiefs; equally mad when they stopped that and played 
the Marcia Reale. The King, who is generally quite im- 
passive, looked pleased. The performance, like all gala 
performances, was long, but the Royal party didn't look 
bored, and seemed to talk to each other, and to Loubet 
quite a good deal. The King has a serious, almost stern 
face, with a keen, steady look in the eye. I should think 
he saw everything. The end of the ballet was a fine pot- 
pourri of French and Itahan flags, Marseillaise and Mar- 
cia Reale, and the Court left in a roar of cheers. The 
Queen bowed very graciously and prettily right and left 
as she turned to go. 

The getting away was difficult and disagreeable, the 
narrow street was crowded with royal carriages, all the 
horses prancing and backing, and no one paying attention 
to anything else. However, it was a fine, dry night, and 
once we had got across the street we found our carriage 
(guided by the faithful Pietro) without any trouble. 

This morning the Piazza is most interesting. Evi- 
dently the King and President pass at the foot of the 
square, as there are troops everywhere, and a double line 
of soldiers stretching across the top of the Tritone. 
Every description of vehicle, omnibuses, fiacres, peas- 
ants' carts, people on horseback, all ranged close up 
behind the soldiers; groups of carabinieri with their 
red plumets are scattered about the Piazza ; a long line 
of red-coated German seminarists crossing at one end, 
two or three Cappucini with their sandals, bare feet, and 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 311 

ropes at their waists, coming out of their church, but not 
stopping to see the show. 

I am writing as usual at the window, and a fine smell 
of frittura comes up from the shop underneath. A most 
animated discussion is going on just under the window 
between a peasant, sitting well back on his donkey's tail, 
two baskets slung over his saddle, strawberries in one, 
nespoli (medlars) in the other, and a group of ragged, 
black-eyed little imps to whom some young Englishmen 
have just given some pennies. They all talk, and every 
now and then some enterprising boy makes a dive at the 
baskets, whereupon the man makes his donkey kick, and 
the children scatter. All the people in the street, and the 
coachmen of the little botte (there is a station in the 
Piazza Barberini) take a lively interest in the discus- 
sion ; so do I from the window, but the police are arriv- 
ing and the man will be obliged to come to terms. The 
coachmen of the botte are a feature of Rome, they spot 
the foreigner at once, and always try to get the better 
of him. I took a carriage the other day to go and break- 
fast with Mrs. Cameron in the Piazza di Spagna, about 
two minutes' drive, and asked our porter what I must 
give the coachman. He said one lira (franc). When 
we arrived I gave my franc, which he promptly refused 
to receive; however I told him I knew that was the 
tariff and I wouldn't give any more. He protested 
energetically, giving every possible reason why I should 
give more — his carriage was the best in the piazza, the 
road (Via Tritone) was very bad, down hill and slip- 
pery, he had waited some time in the piazza for me, etc. ; 
however I was firm and said I would only give him one 
franc. Two other coachmen who were standing near 
joined in the discussion and told him he was quite wrong, 
that a franc was all he was entitled to. He instantly 



312 ITALIAN LETTERS [Aprh. 

plunged into an angry dispute with them, and in the 
meantime Mrs. Cameron's door opened, so I put the franc 
on the cushion of the carriage, he in a frenzy, telhng me 
he wouldn't go away, but would stay there with his car- 
riage until I came out. That I told him he was at per- 
fect liberty to do, and went into the house. He and the 
others then proceeded to abuse each other and make such 
a row that when I got up to Mrs. Cameron's rooms she 
said she couldn't think what was going on in the street, 
there was such a noise and violent quarrelling — so I told 
her it was all me and my botta. 

Thursday, April 28th. 

Well, dear, the fetes are over, the President has de- 
parted, and the Piazza Barberini has at once resumed its 
ordinary aspect ; no more carabinieri, nor police, nor car- 
riages full of people, waiting all day in the square in 
the hope of seeing King or President pass. I wonder 
what the old Triton sitting on his shell with his dolphins 
around him thinks of this last show. He has sat there 
for centuries, throwing his jet of water high in the air, 
and seeing many wonderful sights. 

The reception at the Farnese Palace was most brilliant 
last night. We got there too late to see the King and 
Queen and President receiving; there was such a crowd 
in the streets, which were all illuminated, that we couldn't 
get across the Corso, and were obliged to make a long 
detour. The Farnese Palace looked beautiful as we 
came up. the rows of lights throwing out the splendid 
fagade, the big doors open, quantities of handsome car- 
riages, people in uniform and ladies in full dress and 
jewels who had got out of their carriages, crowding into 
the grand old court. The royal carriages were all drawn 
up inside the court, and the group of footmen in their 



1904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 313 

bright red liveries made a fine effect of colour at the foot 
of the stairs. It was an interesting assemblage, all Rome 
(White) there, and all most curious to see the President. 
I didn't see either King or Queen. They were already 
making tlieir progress through the rooms, which were so 
crowded that it was impossible to pass. The famous 
Carracci Gallery looked magnificent lighted. The Am- 
bassador and Madame Barrere received their numerous 
guests most courteously, and didn't look tired, but I fancy 
it was a relief to them when the fetes and their respon- 
sibility were over. 

We have had to put off our journey until Saturday. 
They wouldn't undertake to keep us reserved compart- 
ments, not even sleeping, until Saturday, there would be 
such a crowd. I don't exactly know why, for the Presi- 
dent left this morning, going south, and we, of course, 
are coming north, but every one told me not to go. so 
we have telegraphed to the Ruspolis to say we would go 
out and breakfast with them at Nemi. 

There were quantities of affiches posted everywhere 
this morning which I shouldn't think would please either 
the King of Italy or the French President : " Viva Loubet 
— Viva Combes — Viva la France anticlericale." 

Josephine and I went for a drive. It had rained all the 
morning, and was grey and damp, but we didn't mind. 
We both of us love the Campagna in all its varying as- 
pects. We walked about for some time, but had diffi- 
culty in choosing our ground, on account of the shep- 
herds' dogs, which are very fierce sometimes, and the 
troops of buffaloes. Josephine had a disagreeable ex- 
perience one day with the buffaloes. She was walking on 
the Campagna with her small children and her Italian 
footman, when suddenly a troop of these wild creatures 
charged down upon her at a headlong pace. There was 



314 ITALIAN LETTERS [Afril 

no refuge of any kind near ; the footman, frightened to 
death, promptly ran away. She was terrified, but didn't 
lose her head. She stood quite still, the children clinging 
to her skirts, and the herd divided, passing by on either 
side; but she might have been trampled to death. 
Naturally she has given them a wide berth since. 

Friday, April 29th. 

I will finish to-night dear, as we have come upstairs 
early after a long day in the country. The trunks are 
all ready, some of them downstairs, and we start early to- 
morrow morning. They say the confusion yesterday at 
the station, when the President departed, was awful, 
people — ladies — rushing about distractedly trying to find 
places, no footmen allowed inside, not enough porters to 
carry the heavy dressing-bags and rouleaux. Some peo- 
ple couldn't get any places, could only start last night. 

We had a pleasant day at Nemi. We went out by 
train. There were a good many people, evidently start- 
ing for the regular round of Castelli Romani, princi- 
pally English and Americans, and principally women, 
very few men, but large parties, six and seven, of women 
and girls. It is a pretty road across the Campagna and 
up the steep hill to Albano, and as our speed was not 
terrifying w^e had ample time to see everything. The 
Ruspoli carriage was waiting for us, and we had a beau- 
tiful drive to Nemi. It is really a lovely little place — 
the deep blue lake at the foot of the hills, and all the 
country about us green. Our hosts were waiting for us 
in one of the numerous salons, and we had time to go 
over the castle a little before breakfast, which we had in 
a charming old-fashioned room, with wonderful frescoes 
on the walls. They have already done wonders in the 
old feudal castle, and I should think it would be a charm- 



I904] OF A DIPLOMAT'S WIFE 315 

ing summer residence, as no heat could penetrate these 
thick walls. The view from the balcony was divine, over 
green slopes and little woods to the lake. 

We missed our train at Albano, so drove on to Castel 
Gandolfo and waited there for the next one. We had 
gouter in a lovely little pergola overlooking the lake of 
Albano, with the great papal villa opposite. It is not 
very interesting as to architecture, a large square pile. 
No Pope has lived there since Pio Nono. I believe some 
French nuns are settled there now. 

It was very warm walking about the little old town, 
which looked as if it had been asleep for years — no one 
in the streets, no beggars even, no movement of any kind. 
Just as we were starting for the station three or four 
carriages filled with tourists rattled through. It is cu- 
rious to see how life seems to go on in just the same 
grooves in all these little towns. Rome has so changed 
— changes so all the time — is getting cosmopolitan, a 
great capital ; but all these little mountain villages seem 
quite the same as in the old days of Savellis, Colonnas, 
and Orsinis, when most of the great feudal chiefs were 
at daggers drawn and all the country fought over, and 
changing hands after each fierce encounter. The few 
people one meets look peaceful enough, but on the small- 
est provocation eyes flash, tones and gestures get loud and 
threatening, but apparently they calm down at once and 
are on the whole, I fancy, a lazy, peaceable population. 

It is warm to-night, the windows are open and the Mar- 
seillaise still has the honours of the night — one hears it 
everywhere. 



INDEX 



Albano, 30 

Albert!, 20-21 

Alfieri, 105 

Allessandri, Carlo, 27, 35 

Altieri, Cardinal, death of, 30 

Angelico, Fra, 39 

Antonelli, Cardinal, 61, 284, 288, 

306 
d'Aosta, Duke, 223 
Apponyi, Count, Ti 
Arbuthnot, Miss, 26 
d'Asoli, 271 
d'Asoli, Princess, 254 
d'Aubigny, M. and Madame. 45 
d'Aulnay, 62, 116 
d'Aulnay, Comtesse, 57 
Austria, Emperor of, 177 
d'Autas, 295 

Baddeley, Mr., 280 
Bailey, Mrs., 76 

Bailleul, Madame de, 230; re- 
ceived by the Queen, 240, 244, 

257 
Bandini, Prince, 144 
Bandini, Princess, 51, 54, 63, 6g, 

145 ; gives musicale, 146 
Beauharnais, Comtesse de, 116 
Bertheny, Countess de, 262 
Bibra, 62, 69, 143, 145 
Bicletis, Monsignor, 249, 250, 251, 

255 
Bishop, Mr. and Mrs., 299 
Bonghi, 105 



Borghese, Giovanni, 266 

Brancaccio, Princess, 93 

Brandt, Otto, 102 

Brinquant, 21 

Bruce, Mrs., 41, 50, 51; gives 
dinner, 68-69, 89, 106, i6g, 
174 

Brusatti, General, 275 

Bruschi, Countess, 306 

Bunsen, Charles de, 14, 34; ar- 
rives at Rome, 108, no, 114, 
118; returns to Florence, 119, 
180 

Bunsen, Madame de, 14, 15, 34, 
179, 180, 254, 288 

Cabat, M., 117 

Cabriac, Marquis de, 71 

Cairoli, 45, 52, 64, 80; speaks in 

Chamber, 83 ; gives dinner. 96- 

98 
Cairoli, Madame, 45, 51, 64, 68; 

gives dinner, 96-98 
Calabrini, 51, 56, 62, 63, 67, 81 
Calice, Countess, 67 
Cameron, Mrs., 311 
Caprannica, Bianca, 142 
Caprannica, Marchesa, 142 
Cardenas, the, give dinner, 144 
Cavaletti, Maurizio, 69 
Cavour, 84, 223, 224 
Celleri, Countess, 80, 99 
Cenci, 54 
Cesarini, Marquise Villa, 253 



317 



3'8 



INDEX 



Chambord, Comte de, 117 
Charles Albert, King of Savoy, 

220 
Charette, 120 
Chigi, Marquise, 89 
Cialdini, 67 
Coello, Count, 148 
Colobiano, Count. 222 
Colonna, Prince. 282, 283. 306 
Colonna, Princess, death of, 30 
Comandi, 29 
Cook, 91, 95 
Crosby, Schuyler, 2)7 
Curtis, Bessie, 61, 230 

Daudet, M., 200 

Del Monte, 108, 148; walk with, 

172 
Despretis, Madame, 51 
Desprez, 45, 55, 57, 71, 92. I44 
Diemor, 248 
Director of Museum at Milan. 

186, 199, 212, 216 
Doria, 100 
Doria, Gwendoline, 81 

Edwards, Mrs., 65 
Edwards, Hon. Sylvia, 65 
Elena, Queen of Italy, gives au- 
dience, 240-242; at the court 
ball, 243, 253, 299 ; at the opera. 
310; gives reception in honour 
of President Loubet. 312 
English, Monsignor, 63, 66, 79 ; 
brings Pope's photograph. 155 
d'Eu. Comte and Comtesse, 250 
Evans, Father, 268 

Field, Mr.. 245 
Field, Mrs., 237, 305 
Forbes, Misses, 26, 184 
Frankenstein. Countess, 309 
Freycinet. 5. 60 
Freycinet, Madame de. 6 
Fua. Teresina, 24S 



Gabriac, Marquis de, 144 

Garibaldi, 120, 122 

Genoa, Duchess of, 287, 288 

Geoff roy, 62, 63, 64, 89, 117, 168 

Geoffroy, Madame, 117 

Germany, Crown Princess of, 10 1. 
104, 108. log. 207; daughters of. 
210 

Gianotti, Count. 243. 262 

Gianotti. Countess, gives after- 
noon tea, 262 

Gittone, 275 

Gosselins, 108, 109 

Gounod, 296 

Grants, 51 

Gravina, 96 

Greppi. Comte, 275 

Grevy, Madame, 9, il 

Guadagni, Madame. 34 

Guery, Don, 272, 279 

Guglielmi. Marquis, 298 

Helena, Queen of Italy, see Elena 
Hoffman, Mr., 216, 222. 223 
Hohenlohe, Cardinal 165 
Hooker Mr., 51, 66, 120; gives 

dinner. 142. 174; recollections, 

176 
Howard, Cardinal, 50, 61, 70, 75, 

109, 147 
Hubert, 225 
Hubert, Madame. 13. 47, 58, 63, 

71, 168, 185, 188, 196, 200, 203, 

216, 221 
Humbert, King of Italy, 65, 66; 

birthday, 76, 79, 91 

Ireland, Monsignor. 23 
Ismail, Pasha, ex-Khedive of 
Egypt, 76 

Kahn, Malcolm, 275 
Keats, John. 286 
Keudell. 101-103, 106. 108 
Keudell, Madame, 102, 103. 108 



INDEX 



319 



King, Charles, 30; death of, 119- 

120 
King, Fanny, 176 
King, Henrietta, 124, 134, 218 
King, Mrs.. 123, 132, 134, 137, 139 
King, William, 124, 132 
Kruft, 5 

Lanciani, 44, 63, 88, 89, 159 

Landi, Madame, 40 

Law, Mrs., 275 

Leuchtenberg, Duke of, 116 

Loubet, President, 305 ; reception 
of, 306-307; at the opera, 309- 
310; at the reception at the 
Farnese Palace, 312, 314 

Lovatellis, 51, 94 

Low, Mr. and Mrs. Seth, 2"]^ 

Lucchesi-Palli, 117 

Lyons, Lord, 7 

MacMahon, Madame de, 10, 11 
MacMahon, Marshal, 10, Tz 
Maffei, 64, 97, 108, 159 
Malatesta, Felice, 59, 61, 86, 94. 

108 
Malatesta. Countess, 75 
Maquay, George, 32, 35, 184 
Maquay, Louisa, 36, 184 
Maquay, Nina, 36, 184 
Marcello, Comtesse, 93, 95, 98 
Margherita, Queen of Italy, 220, 

234; gives audience, 253, 285, 

287 
Marina, Marquise Villa, 253, 285, 

287 
Massari, 87, 105 

Massimo, Prince, 74, 218, 255, 272 
Mathieu, Cardinal, 254, 255, 304, 

306 
Medici, Catherine de', 33 
Menabrea, 67 

Meyers, the, give dinner, 304 
Michelangelo, 59 



Minghetti, 52, 56, 69, 81, 105, i8l- 
183 

Minghetti, Madame, 51, 52, 56, 57, 
69, 81 ; receives, 105, 108 

Mirafiori, Comtesse, 183 

Mohl. Madame, 50 

Murrays, 209, 210-21 1 

Mustel, M. Alphonse, 279, 280, 
285 ; plays before Queen Mar- 
gherita, 287 

Naples, Prince of, 86, 94 

Napoleon, Louis, 84, 223 

Nassau, Duke of, 28 

Nevin, Dr., 48, 88, 242 

Nina, Cardinal, 61, 80 

Nisard, M., 240 

Noailles, Marquis de, 45, 48, 87, 98 

Noailles, Marquise de, 48, 51, 56, 
57; gives dinner, 64, 87, 96, 100; 
receives, 107, 108; gives fare- 
well dinner to the Wadding- 
tons, 159 

Norton, Mrs., 139-142 

Orloff, Prince, 10 

Orsini, Prince, 295 

" Ouida," 27 ; description of, 28 

Ouronsoflf, Prince, 244 

Paget, Sir Augustus, 51, 64, 82, 
102, 109 

Paget, Lady, 51, 57, 64; receives, 
89, 102, 109 

Palfy, Count, 52, 70, 92; conver- 
sation with. 174 

Pallavicini, Princess. 51, 54, 67; 
gives reception, 86-87, 246; re- 
ceives, 277 

Pannissera, Madame, 107 

Pasetti, Baron, 242 

Paul, Duchess of Mecklenburg, 
297 

Pecoul, Therese. 273 

Perret, 68 



320 



INDEX 



Peruzzi, Edith, i8, 36, 108, 184 

Peruzzi, Ubaldino, 181, 206 

Pierson, 4 

Pietro, 267, 310 

Pietro, Cardinal di, 79 

Poggio-Suasa, Princess di (nee 
Curtis), 230, 238, 244, 248; gives 
dinner, 259, 262, 266; gives din- 
ner, 273, 285, 286, 291, 292, 294, 

304, 305, 3^3 

Poggio-Suasa, Princess di (nee 
Talleyrafld-Perigord), 305 

Polk, Antoinette, 160 

Pontecoulant, Comte de, 8, 12 

Pope Leo XIII, 58; audience 
with, 59; described, 59, 60, 71, 
146; in his garden, 155, 156, 250 

Pope Pius IX, 56, 58, 59, 69; how 
he was received in the streets 
when he rode out, 146; descrip- 
tion of the blessing from the 
balcony of St. Peter's, 157-158, 
250, 264, 31S 

Pope Pius X, audience with, 249- 
251 ; description of, 250 

Primoli, 144 

Queen of Naples, Dowager, death 
of, 30 

Ramee, Mile, de la, 27 
Rampolla, Cardinal, 295 
Recamier, Madame, 168 
Rignano, Madame, 99 
Ripaldi, Duke di, 57, 100, I59 
Ristori, Madame, 142 
Roccagiovine, Marchese, 266 
Rodmans, 233 
Rossi, de, 89 

Rothschild, Madame Alphonse, 99 
Rudini, Marchesa, gives fete, 272 
Ruspoli, Camillo, 289, 291, 298 
Ruspoli, Don Emanuele, 231, 263 
Ruspoli, Victoria, 255; gives din- 
ner, 276, 315 



St. Asilea, 87, 98 

Sand, George, 38 

Sant' Onofrio, Madame de, 96 

Savonarola, 39 

Savoy, Princes of, 94 

Saxe-Weimar, Grand Duchess, 
259, 297 

Say, Leon, 60 

Schuyler, Eugene, 35, 41, 42, 44, 
56, 69, 77, no, 112, 142 

Schuyler, Mrs. Eugene (" Gert "), 
35, 41, 42, 44, 61, 62, 63, 64, 67, 
69; trouble with maid, 76-78, 79, 
80, 82, 89, 92, 108, no, 113, 118, 
124, 132, 142; at Tivoli, 161; 
gives farewell dinner, 174, 197 

Sciarra, Princess, 49, 89 

Seckendorff, Count, 103, 105, 108 

Sella, 81, 84, 105 

Sermoneta, Duke of, 54 

Serristori, 35 

Sibbern, Madame, 5 

Smith, Father, 55, 79, 87, 91 ; pre- 
sents a medal, 160, 174; conver- 
sations with, 177 

Somaglia, Countess, 81, 87, 98, 
117; her daughters, 117 

Spencer, Mrs. Lorillard, 83 

Stael, Madame de, 168 

Stanley, Dean, 50 

Stanley, Lady Augusta, 50 

Sternberg, Mile, de, 15, 18 

Story, Mrs., 286 

Story, Waldo, 239, 304 

Story, W. W., 18, 109, 239 

Sulmona, 72-73 

Sulmona, Princess, 73. 87, 144 

Sutteroth, M. Alphonse, 5, 8, 200, 
227 

Talleyrand-Perigord, Charles de, 

26 
Talleyrand-Perigord, Madame de, 

27, 61 



INDEX 



321 



Talleyrand-Perigord, Marquise de 
(nee Curtis), 230, 237, 242, 244; 
audience with the Pope, 249- 
251, 262, 266, 267, 275, 285, 290, 
302, 304; leaves Rome, 307 

Tchaitcheff, Madame de, 16, 25 

Teano, Prince, 51, 54, 56, 105 

Tcano, Princess, gives ball, 99, 
272 

Theoduli, Marchesa, 83 

Thomar, 71 

Thurn, Princess de, 54 

Tosti, 145 ; described and criti- 
cised, 147 

Townshend, Mrs. Charles L., 95 

Trocchi, 48 ; sends flowers, 169 

Tronbetzkoi, Princess Lise, 98 

Turin, Comte de, 243 

Turkam, Pasha, 76, loi 

Uffizi, 36 
Uxkull, 64, 81 

Val, Cardinal Mery del, audience 

with, 251-252 
Valery, Dr., 30, "]"], 120 
Van Loo, 62 

Vannutelli, Cardinal Serafino, 295 
Vannutelli, Cardinal Vincenzo, 

240 ; dinner given for, 273, 295, 

306 
Van Rensselaer, Mrs., 67. 118 
Van Schaick, Lottie, 16, 17, 35, 

40, 184 
Venosta, Visconti, 52 ; speaks in 

Chamber, 80, 83, 105, 159 
Venosta, Madame Visconti, 64, 

81, 89, 107 
Vera, 108 

Vicovaro, Princess, 83, 85 
Victor Emmanuel. King of Italy, 

218, 220. 23 T 
Victor Emmanuel IH, King of 

Italy, at the court ball, 243, 277, 



299; receives President Loubet, 
306-307; at the Opera, 310; gives 
reception in honour of President 
Loubet, 312 

Villamarina, Marquis de, 81, 87 

Virgo, M., 245, 266, 279 

Visconti, 89 

Vitali, Count, gives dinner for 
French Ambassador, 240 

Vitelleschi, 67, 69, 87, 279 

Vitelleschi, Marchesa, gives tea, 
278 

Waddington, Evelyn, 61 

Waddington, Francis, has Christ- 
mas tree, 5 ; left in Paris, 12, 
108, 225, 251 

WADDINGTON, Madame, leaves 
Quai d'Orsay, 3-4 ; calls on 
Madame de Freycinet, 6; for- 
mal receptions, 8; receives Mes- 
dames Grevy and MacMahon, 
11; arrives at Florence, 12; ar- 
rives at M. de Bunsen's, 14; a 
typical Florentine party, 18; a 
visit from Alberti, 20; recalls 
picnic at Segna, 20-22; visits 
the Ponte Vecchio, 24; drives 
to Santa Maria Novella, 25 ; tea 
at Camerata, 26; dines with 
Talleyrand-Perigord, 26; takes 
tea with " Ouida," 27 ; impres- 
sions of " Ouida," 28; drives to 
Villa Careggi, 31 ; drives to the 
Certosa and Casa Guadagni, 
34 ; decides to go to Rome, 35 ; 
Maquay dinner, 35 ; drives out 
Fiesole way, 37 ; visits Fra An- 
gelico's and Savonarola's cells 
at San Marco, 39; musical 
evening with the Landis, 40; 
arrives at Rome, 41 ; her 
father's illness, 42; calls on 
Eugene Schuyler, 44 ; invita- 



322 



INDEX 



tions from Embassies, 44; 
drives along the Via Appia, 45 ; 
visit to the Vatican, 47 ; visit 
from the Marquis de Noailles, 
48; Princess Sciarra's ball, 49; 
recollections of Dean Stanley 
and Cardinal Howard, 50 ; re- 
ception at the Schuylers', 51; 
reception at Princess Pallavi- 
cini's, 54; pointed out as dis- 
tinguished strangers, 55 ; dinner 
at the Teanos', 56; breakfast at 
the Noailles', 57; audience with 
the Pope, 58-60; dinner at the 
Wimpffens', 62.; the Pope's im- 
pression of, 63; dinner at the 
Noailles', 64; attends the opera, 
69; dines at the Portuguese 
Embassy, 71-74; dines with the 
Pagets, 81 ; dinner at the Cala- 
brinis', 84 ; attends American 
Church, 88 ; walk on Good Fri- 
day, 90; service at St. Peter's, 
90; service at St. John Lateran, 
91 ; note from the Quirinal, 92 ; 
audience with the Queen of 
Italy, 92-95 ; meets the Prince 
of Naples, 94 ; breakfast with 
the Noailles, 95 ; sees Farnese 
Palace, 95 ; visits the Bakers' 
tomb, 96; dines with the Cairoli, 
96-98; day at the races, 98-99; 
protests against " valise " regu- 
lations, 98 ; attends Teano ball, 
99; visits the Trevi Fountain, 
100; tea with the Duke di Ri- 
paldo, 100; dines at German 
Embassy and meets German 
Crown Princess, 102-105; at- 
tends reception at the Noailles', 
107; musical evening at the 
Schuylers', 108 ; dinner with the 
Wimpffens, 108; meets Crown 
Princess again, 109 ; excursion 



to Frascati, no; fails to visit 
Tusculum, 112, 113; trip to the 
Vatican, 114-115; ball at the 
British Embassy, 116; dinner at 
Villa Medici, 117; recollections 
of 1867, 119; goes to Naples, 
119; sees Vesuvius in eruption, 
123 ; ascends Mt. Vesuvius, 124- 
125 ; a long wait at an inn, 
126-130; fete at the Stella del 
Mare, 135; the nun, 135; sail 
to Capri, 136; Capri, 137; a 
Capri fishergirl, 139- 141; din- 
ner at Mr. Hooker's, 142; visit 
to the Doria Gallery, 143; dines 
at the Spanish Embassy, 144 ; 
musicale at Princess Bandini's, 
146; hears Lohengrin in Ital- 
ian, 148; drives to Albano, 149- 
153; last turn in the Vati- 
can, 154; receives the Pope's 
photograph, 155 ; drives to the 
Villa Madama, 157; farewell 
dinner at the Noailles', 159; a 
day at Tivoli, 161-165 ; a lonely 
road, 167; last drive in the 
country, 169; walk with Del 
Monte, 173 ; arrives at Milan, 
180 ; attends the races, 183 ; 
holds Small reception, 184; a 
drive about Milan, 187 ; a visit 
to the Brera, 188-189; visit to 
the Duomo, 190; a second visit 
to the Brera, 192-193; describes 
the Piazza dei Mercanti, 201, 
202 ; an afternoon at Monza, 
204-206; leaves Milan and ar- 
rives at Turin, 211; trip to La 
Superga, 219-221 ; returns to 
Paris, 225; Rome revisited, 229; 
attends a ball at the Storys', 
239; dinner at Count Vitali's, 
240 ; received by the Queen, 
240-242; attends the court ball, 



INDEX 



3^3 



243 - 244 ; in the garden of 
the Vatican, 247 ; music at the 
French Embassy, 248 ; audience 
with the Pope, 249-251; au- 
dience with Cardinal Mery del 
Val, 251-252; audience with 
Queen Margherita, 253 ; break- 
fast with Princess d'Arsoli, 254; 
at the Pope's audience, 255-256; 
an expedition to the Cata- 
combs, 257 ; dines with Princess 
Poggio-Suasa. 259; automobile 
excursion with Countess de 
Bertheny, 262-265 ; trip to Tus- 
culum, 267 ; special guards, 269 ; 
fete at the Massimo Palace, 
271 ; fete given by Marchesa 
Rudini, 272 ; dines with Mal- 
colm Kahn, 275 ; dines with the 
Ruspolis, 276 ; Holy Thursday 
at St. Peter's, 281 ; visits her 
father's grave, 285 ; a musical 
evening at the Palace, 287-288 ; 
excursion to San Gregorio, 289- 
291 ; attends ceremony at St. 
Peter's, the 13th anniversary of 
Pope Gregorio Magno, 292-296 ; 
children's ball, 297-298; auto 
trips with the Bishops, 299-301 ; 
reception at the Villa Medicis, 
303 ; dines with the Meyers, 304 ; 
dines with the Grand Duchess. 
305 ; reception of President Lou- 
bet, 306-307 ; attends gala night 
at the opera, 309-310; recep- 
tion at the Farnese Palace, 312- 
313 
Waddington, M. William H., re- 
signs as Premier, 3 ; refuses 
London Embassy, 6 ; leaves 
Paris and arrives at Florence, 
12; arrives at M. de Bunsen's, 
14 ; attends the Peruzzis' party 
and meets Bentivoglio, 18; dines 



with Talleyrand-Perigord, 26; 
calls on Madame Guadagni, 34 ; 
arrival at Rome, 41 ; talks with 
Eugene Schuyler, 44; various 
invitations from Embassies, 44 ; 
visit to the Vatican, 47; visit 
from Marquis de Noailles, 48 ; 
reception in his honour at the 
Schuylers', 51 ; pointed out as a 
celebrated man, 55 ; has au- 
dience with the Pope and con- 
verses about politics, 50-60; the 
Pope's opinion of him, 63; din- 
ner at the Noailles', " Cotelettes 
a la Waddington," 64; has au- 
dience with King Humbert, 65- 
66; meets Cardinal Howard, 70; 
curiosity to meet him, 75 ; at- 
tends the Chambre des Depu- 
tes, 80; second visit to the 
Chambre des Deputes, 83 ; goes 
to San Clemente, 87; walk on 
the Campagna, 88 ; audience 
with the Queen of Italy, 92-95 ; 
insists on "valise" reform, 98; 
delighted with di Ripalda's 
frescoes, etc., loi ; conversation 
with Turkam Bey, loi ; re- 
ceived by the German Crown 
Princess, 103 ; dines with de 
Rossi, 118; change of mental 
atmosphere, 147; trip to Al- 
bano, 149-153; last visit to the 
Vatican, 154; conversation with 
Father Smith, 177; speech-mak- 
ing, 181 ; visits the cabinet de 
medailles at Milan, 186: a visit 
to the Brera, 192-193; receives 
Mr. Hoffman, 223-224; arrives 
in Paris, 225 
Wales, Princess of, 242 
Wallace, Sir Donald, 281 
Weling, Mile, de, 28 
Westenberg, Madame, 68 



324 



INDEX 



Wilbrahams, the, 69 

Wimpffen, Count, 64, 81, 89, 107, 
242 

Wimpffen, Comtesse, 56; gives 
dinner, 62, 64, 68, 83 ; gives re- 
ception, 84-87, 89, 98, 105; din- 



ner to German Crown Princess, 
108-109. 
Wurts, Mr. and Mrs., 69; give 
dinner, 248, 284, 285 

Zuylen, Cornelie, 83 



* 



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